


No Grave Can Hold My Body Down (I'll Crawl Home to Her)

by wherehopelies



Series: Current WIPs - Corona Mass Publishing Event Wow [2]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: All TWs you would expect from a HGAU, Death, F/F, Hunger Games AU, Hurt/Comfort, Soft bbs, Violence, Yearning, but also:, this is straight up just imported from my tumblr bulletfics but you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 24,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23282998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherehopelies/pseuds/wherehopelies
Summary: Bemily Hunger Games AU - copied over from my tumblr for those who don't follow me there.
Relationships: Emily Junk/Beca Mitchell
Series: Current WIPs - Corona Mass Publishing Event Wow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672879
Comments: 13
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is the same as what's on my tumblr but now u can read it on ao3 i guess

  * It’s the 68th Hunger Games, 6 years before the official start of the Rebellion
  * It’s been an especially hard year for District 7. Many of their trees are experiencing rot and infestation from a specific kind of beetle and this has made them unusable for lumber. President Snow isn’t happy…
  * That doesn’t stop Beca from climbing up in their branches in her free time, especially near the water, where the girl from one class below her seems to always hang out.
  * Emily is her name, Beca found out from Stacie. According to her friend, she’s the nicest and most well-liked person in her year. Beca doesn’t care much about that. Emily has the most beautiful voice Beca has ever heard. She watches and listens from the trees as Emily spends her evenings humming and scrawling verses in a notebook… writing songs. Sometimes, listening to Emily sing is the only thing that keeps Beca going in this shitty world.
  * If things were different, Beca might say hi, pursue some sort of friendship, or more, but she doesn’t want to think about that. Not until they’re at least all of age and can’t be Reaped. What if you fell in love and had that person snatched by the cruel claws of the Capitol for the Hunger Games?
  * The morning of the Reaping is always a somber event. It feels like the whole district is holding its breath. Beca knows her chances of being Reaped are low. It’s just her and her dad, so they haven’t really needed extra rations, and Beca just has 6 entries in the bowl. Compared to so many of the other children… that may as well be nothing.
  * Still, her heart races. If she makes it through this year, she’ll only have one more year to fear for herself.
  * Their escort pulls the boy first. His name is Jesse and he marches to the stage with dignity. Beca recognizes him but doesn’t know him personally.
  * Then it’s the girls, and Beca holds her breath.
  * “EMILY JUNK!”
  * Beca’s world spins as the girl with the most beautiful voice takes a step out of the crowd and toward the stage, her eyes wide and fearful, legs visibly trembling. Beca’s heart stops. This can’t be??? No - 
  * “I VOLUNTEER!” She’s screaming. “I VOLUNTEER!!!” Her heart is in her throat and she can barely get the words out but she didnt even mean to, didn’t even think about it, just knew this world has had enough happiness ripped from it and not Emily, not her too -
  * The previously silent crowd erupts in an echo of whisper, like the fluttering of wings buzzing over hundreds of people as they turn to their neighbor. A volunteer? District 7 has never had a volunteer. That’s for the career districts.
  * “Come forward,” their escort says, and there are Peacekeepers at Beca’s back and she doesn’t have time to think what she’s done. She’s being pushed up to the stage and she passes Emily in the crowd, her eyes watery and confused, staring at a stranger willing to risk her life on her behalf. Beca tries to give her a comforting smile, but her muscles aren’t cooperating as she’s shoved up the stage steps and Jesse is staring at her, the escort is staring at her, the crowd is staring at her
  * Emily is staring at her
  * Then their escort is clapping and cheering brightly under the dull cloudy sky, in front of the blank stares of the crowd and her tributes. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR THE 68TH HUNGER GAMES DISTRICT 7 TRIBUTES!”
  * A few weak claps issue from the crowd and then Beca’s being led away behind closed doors, and the last thing she sees before they shut on her is Emily’s face, worried and teary, but beautiful beyond compare.




	2. Chapter 2

  * emily is in shock. is her heart still beating?? did that really happen?
  * her name was called after jesse’s and she had time to think at least they would die _together_. but then someone… beca mitchell… volunteered in her place as the district 7 tribute. she didn’t imagine that right?
  * everyone is staring at her… no she didn’t imagine it
  * aubrey grabs her tightly around the arm. “emily. emily look at me.” emily’s eyes flicker around in a panic before landing on her friend. “breathe.”
  * she’s crying, she can feel the hot tears on her cheeks
  * “you have to go say goodbye. you have to say thank you.” aubrey’s pushing her toward the district hall where jesse and… and _beca_ disappeared
  * There’s a few Peacekeepers standing guard and a group of people waiting to see the tributes. She gives her name and waits while they talk to the tributes. after a tense minute, she’s ushered into a plush office where jesse’s pacing back and forth
  * “Jesse,” she cries and her best friend sweeps her up in a hug. 
  * “Em. Are you okay? What _was_ that? Who was that?”
  * Emily shrugs helplessly. “I’ve seen her around a few times, she’s friends with Stacie. I don’t really know her… Maybe she’s been secretly trying to be like the Careers? Otherwise it doesn’t make sense.”
  * Jesse gives her a look. “Em, she’s scrawny and barely the size of a chihuahua I don’t think she’s a Career. Maybe she has a crush on you,” Jesse smirks as if this is the time for smirking and teasing at all. Emily sniffles and says nothing. Jesse pats her on the shoulder. “Well, she volunteered and saved my best friend so… I’ll repay the favor for her, don’t worry.”
  * Emily shakes her head furiously. “No you have to come back! You have to win!” There’s Peacekeepers at her back, ushering her away and she’s sobbing again. “JESSE PROMISE ME!!!”
  * He’s calling something at her but she can’t hear and then she’s pushed across the hall into an identical office where a small girl sits, her head in her hands
  * she looks up when emily enters, tripping over the threshold in her haste to get inside. the girl’s eyes go wide and she just stares… her mouth opening in horror when she sees emily
  * “you’re beca?” emily asks, trying to understand. _god_ she doesn’t understand. “i’m… emily”
  * “yeah,” the girl says, her voice low and deep. “yeah i know.”
  * emily stares at her, at her ripped work pants and her dark shirt, the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. her wavy brown hair falls over her shoulders and her eyes shine a gorgeous blue under the dark circles under her lids. 
  * “i don’t get it,” emily whispers, her voice raspy from crying. “why me? i don’t know you. i barely know who you are.”
  * beca shrugs. “i… i don’t know either.”
  * “take it back, beca, please. i can’t stay here knowing you did this for me and not even knowing why.”
  * “no,” beca rushes out. “no im going.”
  * “beca - ”
  * “i won’t let you die,” beca squeaks out and emily snaps her mouth shut. nothing about this makes sense. 
  * “ONE MINUTE!” A Peacekeeper yells through the door and Emily frets.
  * “How can I make it up to you? There’s literally nothing that can compare to this but please let me try,” she pleads, her heart beating in her ears.
  * Beca thinks for a long moment - too long. “Just… don’t stop singing. Please.” 
  * There’s a muted thud and the Peacekeepers are opening the door and she _panics_ and hugs this girl she doesn’t know but who would trade her life for Emily’s
  * Then the Peacekeepers pull her back out into the main hall, and the door to Beca’s room slams shut with a ringing finality that will echo in Emily’s ears for years to come




	3. Chapter 3

  * beca moves through the next hours in a daze. she gets on the train to the capitol, highspeed and like nothing she’s ever seen before. the affluence of it would make her sick if the richness of the food wasn’t already twisting in her stomach, heavy and full
  * jesse tries to joke with her - he seems strangely jovial for the situation theyre in, but maybe that’s how he copes
  * beca hasn’t said more than _thank you_ to the silent servants. she can’t speak. it’s suddenly dawned on her what she’s volunteered for. her days are numbered now - more than they ever were in district 7
  * their escort and their previous victors (there are 6 of them) fuss over them, but beca shuts them all out, closing the door to her private room and taking a long, hot shower
  * she can’t stop thinking of her dad - alone now
  * she can’t stop seeing emily’s face staring at her as she steps on the stage, hearing emily’s voice pleading with her to take it back, feeling emily’s arms clench around her
  * it’s like a dream - or a nightmare - she can’t decide which
  * this moment? a nightmare. but emily? incomparable
  * there’s a rap on her door and she considers not answering but what’s the point? she’s going to die in that arena… she may as well make the most of her time on the train and in the capitol


  * it’s jesse and he pushes his way in rather obtrusively, which makes anger flame inside her
  * “what gives dude?”
  * “ _you_ what gives! why aren’t you out there soaking up the advice those victors are trying to give us? they’re trying to help you _survive_ and you’re just moping in here.”
  * “fuck off,” she grunts, now regretting opening the door. she should’ve decided to spend her last days in peace
  * he gives her a long look, his puppy dog eyes appraising her. he’ll have no trouble getting sponsors. he’s likable and cute and strong. not like her - surly and angry and small
  * “you’ve given up,” he says after a minute, and she averts her gaze with a shrug. he rudely grabs her by the arm, his fingers squeezing tightly.
  * “ow,” she mutters, trying to yank away, but he’s got her in a vice-like grip.
  * “you don’t get to do that,” he snarls, getting right up in her face. “you don’t get to volunteer for emily and then give up, leaving her to feel guilty for the rest of her life when you die in there.”
  * she finally frees herself and glares at him. “what’s it to you?”
  * “to me?” he gapes. “that’s my best friend! what’s it to _you_? explain _that_.”
  * she can’t, so she shrugs. “i don’t know.” he won’t stop staring at her and he’s clearly not going to let her off the hook so she sighs. “fine, dude, i don’t know, i just… it seemed cruel or something that _she’d_ come here to die when she’s like one of the only happy parts of district 7, okay?”
  * he blinks at her. “you don’t even know her.”
  * “i…” she looks at him helplessly. “i wish i did. i know her voice. she sings down by the water where i hang out sometimes.” she clears her throat. “i mean, _hung_ out sometimes.”
  * jesse leans against the wall, letting out a low whistle. “you _love_ her.”
  * beca scoffs. “you were right before, i don’t even know her.”
  * “love works in mysterious ways,” he grins and she wants to slap him. he’s _annoying_ even in the face of literal death. who smiles when they’re speeding toward their own funeral? “well, if we weren’t potentially going to die, i’d put in a good word for you,” he laughs and beca snorts.
  * “thanks,” she says wryly. “you’re a pal. now get out, i’m going to nap before we get to the capitol.” she starts to push him toward the door of her room and he scrambles not to trip over his own feet.
  * “wait,” he says. “dont you want to talk strategy? alliances can be really important in the aren-”
  * she shoves him out of her room and closes the door on his puppy dog face. 
  * finally. some peace before the inevitable chaos of her next (and probably last) few weeks




	4. Chapter 4

  * the training center is of the same plush affluence beca encountered on the train, but more so. it sickens her, settling deep in her stomach and not feeling like it will disappear anytime soon.
  * their district victors flutter around her and jesse, giving advice and talking strategy for the upcoming week of training. beca listens with half an ear as they talk of potential alliances and ways to hide your true strength from the other tributes. she doesn’t really make friends easily back at home and now seems a funny time to start.
  * she spends the week moving from station to station, learning combat and survival techniques. mostly she watches the others.
  * there are a few that stick out to her. some very large tributes from districts 1 and 2. an obnoxious brute of a boy named bumper from 10, a snarky girl from 4. these are the ones to watch out for. 
  * a boy from 12, skinny and underfed, wide eyed and eager to learn everything he can from the training, seems to glom onto jesse after he makes a pointed retort at bumper when the oaf is caught laughing at the boy from 12.
  * jesse tells her one night back on their floor that the boy is named benji, and he’s very clever. “he doesn’t look like much, but i wouldn’t count him out,” jesse advises.


  * beca learns to tie knots, set traps, how to start a fire, throw a spear. 
  * she doesn’t show her true colors until the private session with the game makers, just as her mentors have told her. then she lets them have it.
  * _thwap thwap thwap_ \- the axes hit the human targets in quick succession. but that’s to be expected. everyone in district 7 is somewhat handy with an axe.
  * then beca climbs. there’s a rope’s course to the side of the chamber and she clambers up in a few easy bounds. she scuttles across the netted ceiling and huffs when she notices a few of the gamemakers are talking amongst themselves and not paying attention to her. one has a bright orange in his hand. beca’s only had an orange on two occasions and she can taste the tart juice in her mouth mixing with her annoyance that they’re not paying attention to her. she worms her way further across the ceiling until the net ends, then she swings herself to a metal beam over the banquet table. from there she drops down right behind the man with the orange and taps him on the shoulder.
  * he spins around in alarm, eyes widening when he sees her standing there, unsure how she got from the chamber floor and over the barrier between the tributes and the banquet area. 
  * “mind if i take this?” she says, raising an eyebrow. then she plucks the orange from his hand, scrambles onto the buffet table, and flips herself back onto the beam across the ceiling. she slides over it and carefully lands back in the training area. 
  * “you can be excused,” one of the gamemakers rasps out, but many are chuckling and teasing the one she stole the orange from. she waves and leaves the room, peeling the orange as she goes
  * she gets a 7 for her score. not great, but not bad. perfectly average. this is apparently to her advantage because she will remain unforgettable to the other tributes. not easy to pick off, but she won’t have an immediate target on her back either.
  * the interview takes place the next day, and after that, just one more sleep until the Games begin. beca’s trying not to think about it and is perhaps in some kind of denial, unable to feel anything but numbness at the thought of her imminent death.
  * the interview go as expected. everyone has a strategy. becas not sure what hers is. she’s not smiley, sexy, big, ferocious. she’s maybe a little clever, but she’s also not too talkative. hard to show your wit when you barely have it in you to open your mouth.
  * Caesar Flickerman has always been extremely adept at asking the right (or perhaps wrong) questions. “it’s been 28 years since district 7 has had a volunteer beca. tell us - what was going through your head at the time? was it the yearning for fame, the burning for glory? the desire to prove yourself?”
  * beca blinks at him. the nerve of these people. “no,” she says curtly. but jesse nudges her and she can feel his exasperation emanating off him in waves. she doesn’t want to be honest, doesn’t want to share this with anyone, but what choice does she have. “it was emily.”
  * the crowd gasps in time with Caesar. “the girl for whom you volunteered?” beca nods and Caesar’s hand makes his way to his chest. “is it love, beca?”
  * this strategy, focusing on the loved ones you’ve left behind and want nothing more to go back to, it’s used every games. there are always a few. but it’s not that often someone volunteers to save a loved one. it happens, sure, but it’s rare. 
  * “yes, it was love,” beca tells Caesar, and she isn’t lying. Is she _in love_ with Emily? no. jesse was right. she doesn’t know her. but does she love her? she loves listening to her sing, loves watching her braid her hair in the summer sun, loves the feeling of _home_ that inhabits her heart when she’s up in a tree and hearing the faint scribble of emily’s pen on paper coming from below as beca dozes off and on.
  * the crowd _awws_ and beca does her best to look lovesick for the camera. it’s not that hard. she’s pretty sure she’s blushing.
  * overall, she’s pretty unremarkable compared to the giants from 1 and some of the others. even jesse charms the pants off the audience. but that’s okay, because beca decides being unremarkable has gotten her this far in life, maybe it will get her just a little bit further in the games, allow her the chance to run away from the thick of things and hide up a tree or something.
  * she doesn’t sleep that night. doesn’t think of the games or her father or her chances of surviving. she knows they’re slim. this could theoretically be her last night alive ever.
  * instead, she thinks of emily, the way the sunlight catches her hair. she thinks of the few times she’s heard emily’s laugh in the hallways at school. thinks of emily’s arms around her as she says goodbye. 
  * the hours pass and soon she’s being led to a hovercraft, landing at the arena, being prepped and styled for the games. and she doesn’t think of any of it. not her fear, not the games, not the other tributes. she breathes evenly, and steps onto the mine-surrounded platform, and lets emily’s song fill her heart as the platform rises from its spot, through the ceiling, and into the arena




	5. Chapter 5

  * emily filters into the square with the crowd of people to watch the tribute interviews. her stomach twists at the thought of seeing jesse on screen. of seeing beca on screen. she thinks maybe it would’ve been better to watch alone but they don’t have a tv back at home, and the screens in the square have the highest definition available. almost like you’re there
  * in the past, she’s really only cared about the two kids from district 7, but now that the others are going up against jesse and beca, emily can’t stop picturing them as predators, hunters going in for the kill


  * the career district tributes seem especially giant this year. the district 1 girl - kommissar - looks like she could step on beca and snap her like a fragile twig. she’s large and merciless and attractive. her private session earned her a 10 and emily’s certain she’ll have sponsors lined up around the block
  * the district 1 boy pieter barely looks less frightening
  * the square is full of chit chat, people commenting on the tributes and placing bets, but as they get to the district 7 tributes, a hush falls over the crowd.
  * emily’s tall enough to see over the small girl in front of her, but she feels herself leaning forward on her tip toes when the camera focuses on beca’s face
  * her stylists have done well. beca is striking in a suit, leaf patterned glitter etched into the fabric. her makeup is exquisite, like nothing anyone in the districts would ever dream of wasting time on. there are flecks of pink in her cheeks and blue on her lashes, bringing out the electric color of her eyes.
  * emily’s stomach flips
  * The charismatic and friendly Caesar Flickerman turns to her with a smile. “it’s been 28 years since district 7 has had a volunteer beca. tell us - what was going through your head at the time? was it the yearning for fame, the burning for glory? the desire to prove yourself?”
  * emily has been wondering the same thing for a week. she’s barely aware of people throwing quick glances at her from her periphery, her attention glued to the girl on the screen.
  * beca’s face twists in disgust. “no,” she nearly scowls and emily cringes. _don’t taunt them, beca, please_. but then beca clears her throat, perhaps realizing she’s toeing a thin line. “it was emily.” when the crowd gasps in delight, her cheeks burn a bright red, full and in high definition for the world to see. emily can feel her own cheeks warming.
  * “was it it love, beca?” Caesar asks, gooey and eager, and emily wonders how beca will talk her way out of this. it’s not _love_. they don’t know each other. she’s barely even thought of beca. well, there was that _one_ time when -
  * “yes,” beca is saying. “it was love.” emily’s mouth falls open. and she can feel it then, the stares of the crowd. they’re all looking at her, wondering about her and beca, wondering about _them_ , as if they’re a them. she can hear her mom’s voice in her head, questioning her about beca after the reaping, tearful and grateful for a girl emily’s never spoken of before that morning.
  * emily wants to yell at them, to scream that she feels nothing for this girl, this near-stranger and it’s all an act, but she can’t. because if this is beca’s strategy for survival then she _must_ help, must pretend, must see beca come _home_ so that she can ask her _whywhywhy_
  * _(and maybe_ , she thinks, _maybe there’s a part of her that feels something. maybe there’s a part of her that’s holding on to that day by the water, a part of her that recognizes it as not_ love _but something…)_
  * and maybe that part is bigger than she thought, because there are hot tears on her cheeks no matter how hard she tries to hold them back. and they only grow heavier as the camera turns to jesse and he is charming and lovely and perfect - he is emily’s best friend - and she knows that she won’t get both of them back, will probably get _neither_ of them back
  * and it strikes her, not for the first time, but perhaps the strongest it ever has, that she is powerless to do anything about it




	6. Chapter 6

  * “LET THE 68TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!” Cladius Templeton’s voice rings around them
  * as beca rises into the arena, her heart starts to take flight, like it finally, _finally_ , after these numb last few days, has realized it’s on its last leg
  * as the platform slides into the place, she prays her feet stay glued to it until the gong sounds and they’re given the go-ahead. whatever horror awaits her in the arena, she doesn’t envy getting blown to bits by the mines. death may be quick and painless but how fucking embarrassing
  * her eyes skitter around, trying to take in everything at once. the first thing she sees is the golden cornucopia, glittering in the sunlight. in the mouth is an abundance of things that might help her survive: weapons, food, shelter, equipment
  * but beca knows she can’t surivive the initial bloodbath… she’s not too fast and she’s certainly not savage enough. her best bet is to run… run far away and as quick as she can


  * around the golden horn rises a cityscape, abandoned and forgotten. buildings that were once skyscrapers jut into the air, their windows glassless and architecture crumbling. beca frowns, puzzled. there could be unknown evils in those buildings, but surely they offer some kind of usefulness, or why would the games be built around them?
  * still, to survive, she’ll need to get even further than that, and she spins so she’s facing away from the cornucopia, poised to flee as soon as the gong sounds
  * now she looks at a plain that quickly gives way to mountainous terrain as far as she can see. and on that terrain? an endless line of trees. she sighs in relief. finally, a bit of luck
  * the gong reverberates around them and beca doesn’t wait - she takes off running toward the plain, weaponless and afraid.
  * to her right, the beast of a woman from district 1 has run right into the thick of it, and beca can hear her snarls from here.
  * she keeps running
  * she’s not too in shape, and certainly not muscular, but she doesn’t dare stop when a stitch in her side stabs her painfully. the plain is too open and she is too vulnerable. she has to get to the tree line
  * she runs for what she thinks might be a mile, but she doesn’t know exactly, before the ground under her feet begins to slope upward and become rockier
  * a few minutes of jogging later, she reaches her first tree. she doesn’t stop to inspect it, but pushes herself until she’s ready to collapse
  * then she turns her attention to the plant life, putting her hand on the bark. it’s easily recognizable; they have them at home in the tree farms where her father works. maples
  * she’s out of breath, but does the only thing she can think of for the moment - she finds a tree with good branches, climbs as high as she can, and waits for the initial bloodbath to end




	7. Chapter 7

  * beca’s barely perched in the tree and caught her breath when the death cannons sound, signalling the end of the bloodbath at the cornucopia
  * beca counts them in time to her heavy exhales - 1, 2, 3 and on and on until 14 _booms_ have echoed around the arena
  * beca gapes. _fourteen_ gone? already? ten left. how could they all have taken each other out that quickly? was it just the savagery of the tributes or something ominous in the city?
  * either way, beca’s body trembles involuntarily with fear, although she tries to keep her expression steady for the cameras, knowing potential sponsors could be watching. although the action at the cornucopia is probably much more interesting than watching a scrawny girl rest in a tree
  * she could almost laugh. she’s in the top ten and all she did was run away. what kind of sheer dumb luck


  * she takes time to think. the woods below her are quiet. either her competitors are extremely stealthy or they’ve gone in different directions for now. 
  * her first thought is she’s going to need to find water, food, and shelter. a weapon would be nice but she pretty much decided from the get-go that wasn’t gonna be an option, at least at the beginning
  * judging by the sun, it’s probably nearing noon. she quietly shimmies down the tree, her toes alighting delicately on the rocky ground. she frowns at the roots of the tree, wondering which way would be best to travel for water
  * she looks down in the valley where the city is, knowing water travels downhill. would it be better to venture back that way, or continue up the mountain?
  * a loud snapping of a twig from down the mountain makes her decision for her; she runs further up, following the dense plantlife
  * she hikes for awhile, trying to put as much distance between her and whoever she heard down the slope.
  * she’s been traveling west along the same level of treeline, searching for water, when it starts to get dark. her stomach pangs with hunger and her mouth is dry, her head pounding. she’s terrified and desperate. she knows she can survive for a few days without water, and longer without food, but she has no idea how she’s gonna get it. plus as it gets dark, it’s gonna get cold and she’s just in her pre-designed Games outfit, a thin mesh material that might be good against the sun and wind but useless against the bitter night air
  * just as she’s starting to become panicked, near blind in the blanket of darkness and ready to climb a tree and hope she doesn’t fall out while she sleeps, she sees the dim flicker of flames barely any distance from her
  * her first instinctual feeling is terror. someone - a career most likely - will see the fire and be up in this neck of the woods in minutes to kill this fire-starter, and if she’s unlucky, beca too.
  * her second thought is that _she_ could be that person… she’s already close, maybe closer than the other tributes. she could sneak up and kill whoever it is. maybe they have supplies she could take.
  * she shoots that thought down though. she doesn’t have a weapon. how is she gonna kill anybody? she’d easily be physically overtaken by any of the other tributes if she tried to do it with just her bare hands
  * (and she’s not sure she has the guts to do it anyway)
  * still, some part of her can’t stop creeping toward the flames, barely making a sound after having grown up walking over terrain such as this
  * even without a light to guide her feet, she’s silent as a ghost
  * she comes upon the smallest of clearings, a campfire burning in the middle. and next to the campfire - a tribute. beca remembers her from the interviews but not at all from the training. the career from district 2, hilarious and well-loved by the audience.
  * what’s a career doing starting a fire during the night? what kind of moron…
  * beca curses her luck. she can’t take down a career, even if they’re sleeping. they’d surely wake up and take out beca with one punch
  * but then beca sees it… a whole pile of supplies. a backpack rests against a tree. a picnic of food around the campfire (what the fuck? how did this girl get a whole picnic, red checkered blanket and basket included???)
  * and weapons. several of them. including, beca notices with envy, a throwing axe
  * she hesitates. she only has a few options. one, run far and fast before someone else makes their way up to this sleeping tribute. two, kill the girl. or… beca realizes… a third option. steal her shit
  * she inches her way forward, holding her breath and praying the girl doesn’t wake up. beca’s all too aware of the massive sword in her sleeping hand
  * she quietly slips the backpack over her shoulder, not making a peep. she’s just reaching for the axe, when behind her, down the mountain but at a good distance, there’s a blood-curdling scream
  * and the sleeping girl wakes up




	8. Chapter 8

  * beca doesn’t have time to think as the career’s sword swings toward her - she flinches backward and then takes off at a sprint, not caring about the noise she’s making
  * “THIEF!” the large girl’s voice calls after you. “i’ll crush you!”
  * beca can hear the girl in pursuit behind her and does what she does best: scuttles up a tree
  * she gets about halfway up the thing before the girl’s below her, glaring up at her. there’s no way the girl can follow her up this far, but how long can beca last?
  * “uh, hey!” beca calls, panting and sweaty. “not too smart to build a fire, dude.”
  * “well then how was i gonna roast my hot dogs?”
  * beca blinks. “hot dogs? how the hell did you get hot dogs?”


  * the girl crosses her arms. “my sponsors sent them, obviously. not too bright are you, tree squirrel?”
  * “your sponsors?” what the fuck? the games havent even been going on for 24 hours, how’d this girl already get stuff from her sponsors?
  * “tell you what,” the girl sighs. “bring down my stuff and we can share it, and in exchange, i won’t kill you right now.”
  * beca scoffs. “you can’t reach me.”
  * “can’t stay up there forever, can you?”
  * beca supposes she’s right. “you wanna form an alliance?” she calls down.
  * “i want my hot dogs back, and they’re in that backpack so. yeah i guess. i mean obviously you’re getting the better deal here, but i’m feeling generous.”
  * beca snorts, somehow finding amusement in this situation. “what’s your name, district 2?”
  * “patricia. but you can call me fat amy.” fat amy. whatever beca thinks. careers are weird. 
  * she climbs down the tree, axe held at the ready… just in case.
  * but amy is good on her word and they hike back to the fire. they decide to put it out, grab the rest of the stuff, and find a better place to spend their first night in the arena.
  * “you’re the one who volunteered for her girlfriend, right?”
  * beca instinctively looks for a camera, hoping this isn’t on film, but of course it is, and of course, the cameras are invisible. all of panem is watching as beca blushes self-consciously
  * “yeah,” she says. “and she’s not my girlfriend.”
  * “right,” fat amy says doubtfully.
  * beca changes the conversation after that, asking amy about making a fire. amy says her skills in combat are enough to take anyone attacking her and her sponsors have already sent her four packages, basically with anything she wants. beca can hardly believe when amy turns her face to the sky and says: “it’d be nice to have some chocolate right about now,” and parachute with two chocolate bars falls from the sky
  * amy might be a little bit of a liability, but beca’s pretty sure nobody’s ever played the games in this much style before
  * as the sky finally darkens completely, the panem anthem begins to play and they both turn their attention upward as the faces of the dead tributes are projected in the sky. beca’s relieved when the parade of the dead finishes and she hasn’t seen jesse’s face. if only because she wants him to win so life is better back home and emily still has her best friend. she takes stock of who’s left:
  * both from 1, 2, 4, and 7, and the boys from 10 and 12. can that really be it?
  * beca offers to take the first watch, and as amy dissolves into snores, beca thinks maybe these games will go by fast. she guesses that’s as much as she can hope for. if she doesn’t make it out of this alive, then at least her suffering in the arena won’t last much longer
  * at least those viewing at home, worrying and watching helplessly, won’t have to endure this agony much longer




	9. Chapter 9

  * emily skips school the day the games begin. she can’t get out of bed. she hasn’t slept well since the reaping, plagued by thoughts of the horrors that await jesse and beca in the arena. when she does fall asleep, she manages for only a few hours before she’s jolting awake and having felt she was lucid the entire time
  * it might be worse to skip school because if she gets out of the house and to a place with a tv, she can watch live. if she went to school she’d have to watch the recap highlights later, but it’s not like she’d able to concentrate anyway, wondering if jesse or beca had died and she’d missed it and didn’t even know


  * she can’t eat but her stomach is growling… she forces some bread down and barely keeps it down
  * stacie comes by an hour before the games start and drags her out of the house. they go to this girl named chloe’s who stacie is friends with. apparently she’s beca’s best friend
  * she looks at emily with a mixture of curiosity and resentment and emily kind of wants to crawl in a hole and die
  * why did beca volunteer for her and leave her with this unending guilt???
  * the cameras do a wide pan of the arena before the tributes come up. there’s an old made-to-seem-abandoned city in the middle, then all around it in a wide birth is a barren plain that leads into mountainous forest. emily can only imagine all the awful things in such a place
  * then the tributes rise from the ground and the countdown timer on the screen begins
  * “LET THE 68th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!” Claudius Temmplesmith says and the screen splits 12 ways, showing 2 tributes per square, the boy and girl from each district. emily’s gaze can’t move away from the district 7 square
  * as the timer ticks down, emily can’t help but cover her eyes. but she also can’t not watch and she finds herself spreading her fingers and peeking at the television
  * then the gong rings and emily’s heart _stops_
  * the initial action is quick and chaotic. the cameras do their best to catch most of the action live, but emily knows the recap later will slow it down so the viewers can see all the carnage and death individually
  * beca streaks off toward the forest right away, but one of the camera split-squares has zoomed in on the girl from 6, who’d run right to the nearest weapon (a bow and arrow) and is lining up to take a shot at beca’s back
  * oh god oh god ohgod
  * then, it’s almost as if it’s in slow motion, although emily’s _knows_ it isn’t, the girl falls down, face first, an axe sticking out of her back
  * “FIRST TRIBUTE DOWN!” Claudius Templesmith jovially cheers! “Tough break, but let’s watch the replay!”
  * the playback rolls and emily watches in terror as the girl points her arrow at beca with a determined and trained eye. then, to emily’s extreme horror (and relief), jesse, who had sprinted to the axe just feet from his own platform, rears back and flings the axe at the girl
  * and emily’s seen him pull that move before, but he was aiming at trees and wood planks and even a target he set up by their houses
  * but a person???????? emily is going to be sick
  * “Gotta hand it to those district 7 kids, they sure know how to wield those axes and hatchets,” Claudius tells his guest host of the day. “lucky for his district partner he was there. she was almost the first kill and she doesn’t even know it!” the announcers laugh at that prospect and emily starts to hyperventilate as the screen flicks back to the games
  * three tributes are dead and they just keep … dying
  * but as soon as jesse threw that axe, he’d grabbed it out of the girls back and was off, running the same direction beca had toward the forest
  * fourteen are dead after the initial chaos has settled
  * emily realizes she’d grabbed and was squeezing chloe’s hand so hard she must have cut off the circulation, but chloe hasn’t noticed or maybe needed it just as much as emily
  * “i’m sorry,” emily whispers to her as the screen starts doing a recap of the first 14 kills. emily doesn’t want to watch them again.
  * chloe looks at her, her eyes teary. “it’s not your fault,” she says back. “it’s just… beca”
  * “do you know why…?” emily trails off then pushes through. “why me?”
  * “no,” chloe shakes her head. “she never… she never said anything about you… but…” she hesitates like she wants to say something else. then she shrugs. “no, i’m sorry, emily. i don’t know why.”
  * emily wonders what she’s not saying
  * they tally up the kills on screen and the girl from district 1 has 7 of the 14. a 50% kill rate is one of the highest they’ve ever seen. the boy from district 1 has 3, the boy from 10 has 1, and the boy and girl from 4 each have 1 too. then jesse. right up there on the kill board with those careers
  * his serious-faced headshot is right there on the chart under the others, most notably the smirking ones of the district 1 tributes
  * emily feels like the tributes from 1′s headshots are staring into her soul and emily reads their stats because she can’t stop:
  * **kommisaar, district 1:** preview session score: 10; kills: 7; height: 5′6″; weapons of choice: throwing blades, fists
  * **pieter, district 1:** preview session score: 10; kills: 3; height: 6′4″; weapons of choice: sword, fists
  * looking at them makes emily’s stomach turn… she knows it’s too much to wish that beca and jesse never come into contact with them, but she does it anyway
  * wishing is all she has now




	10. Chapter 10

  *     * maybe there’s some action happening elsewhere in the arena or maybe the gamemakers are worried the games will end too quickly after the mass murder of the first day, but either way, the next few days in the arena are quiet
    * beca still allies with amy, and the two of them make their way through the woods looking for a good water source and potentially better shelter
    * amy is louder than a jackhammer and beca has to keep telling her to shut the fuck up or they’ll attract the other tributes
    * amy looks into the sky (beca wonders if she’s trying to look directly into a camera) and dramatically says “let them come.”
    * beca rolls her eyes and keeps pushing on in their search for water
    * they collect nuts and berries and pine needles. amy complains but her sponsors don’t send any more hot dogs. maybe they’re waiting for her to kill beca off
    * beca kind of wonders why amy volunteered for the games if she hates exercising and wilderness so much but she’s afraid it’s the question that will make amy snap and give her sponsors what they want… so she doesn’t ask
    * for four days they trek through the woods, growing tired of walking and each other. beca would almost be bored if she still wasn’t in a constant state of alertness and terror
    * finally on day 5 a cannon sounds in the distance
    * beca and amy stare off at the horizon for a long while, wondering who it was
    * beca can’t believe there are only 9 tributes left. when they get down to 8, they send camera crews out to the districts to interview friends and family of the tributes… beca imagines her dad and chloe getting interviewed, chloe trying not to cry. it makes her heart twist
    * she also is sure if she makes it that far, they’ll interview emily on her behalf. jesse’s too. but what will she say? that she’s met beca twice in her life and once was 10 minutes after the reaping? her thoughts circle around like this for hours as they walk 
    * eventually they settle in for the night, in a small overhang of trees that might offer some protection from weather and keeps them slightly hidden from view
    * as the sky darkens, the panem anthem plays and beca holds her breath as a face appears in the sky. the boy from district 2. beca sighs in relief, but then looks over at amy
    * amy’s staring at the sky, almost bored
    * “were you friends?” she asks her softly.
    * “not really,” amy shrugs. “we jelly wrestled sometimes, but i’m not sure that counts as friends.”
    * beca doesn’t ask what jelly wrestling is
    * on the 7th day, things take a turn for the worse
    * they’re hiking back to the water source they used a few days ago when they hear it: the hushed voices of people arguing
    * she and amy look at each other and beca’s heart rate picks up. these are the first tributes they’ve encountered in the arena since the beginning… beca feels her whole body tighten with terror
    * they should run, but their curiosity is greater than their fear. they creep closer
    * “tell us what’s in there,” a deep voice grunts. 
    * “fuck you,” another voice spits in anger. “just kill me and get on with it.”
    * “move,” a third voice urges.
    * beca tries to peek around a tree without being seen, but the sight of the three boys has her stepping back in surprise and she breaks a twig, causing it to crack.
    * jesse looks over in her direction.
    * “beca?” he calls quietly and his face lights up, a smile so strange to see given the circumstances. he and benji are standing over a boy on his back on the ground - beca thinks he’s from district 4 - and jesse has his axe at the boy’s throat, benji leaning over him and dangling something (a necklace?) in his face
    * beca gapes. “what are you…?”
    * “great,” the boy on the ground huffs. “more of an audience.” he tries to push up, but jesse steps on his chest with his heavy boot.
    * amy leans around beca. “this looks kinky…”
    * jesse frowns. “you allied with a career?”
    * beca glances at amy and shrugs. “she has good sponsors.” then she looks back to the boy on the ground. “what’s…?”
    * “there’s something in the city. something dangerous. we saw it rip that district 2 kid to shreds. and this one knows what it is and how to tame it.” he digs the dull end of his axe against the boys neck. “now we’ll give you one more chance to tell us before my friend here…” he jerks his head toward benji. “does his magic.”
    * “again,” the boy on the ground grunts, “fuck. you.” then he spits in jesse’s face
    * “alright benji,” jessie wipes his face and looks down at the district 4 kid in disgust. “it’s all you.”
    * beca watches as benji starts to swing the dangling necklace back and forth in a steady rhythm. “say your name,” benji commands as the boy’s eyes cross.
    * “donald,” the boy says, his voice robotic.
    * “describe the city.”
    * “abandoned,” donald says flatly. “there’s supplies within the buildings. but you have to be quiet. you can’t make a sound. or they will come.”
    * beca leans in closer as benji continues. “who will come.”
    * “the mutts.”
    * “what are they like?”
    * “large. terrible. they smell like blood and death. they have no eyes or nose, just a horrible mouth. talons like swords.”
    * “how do you tame them?”
    * the boy opens his mouth, but just as he does, a knife whizzes past benji and lodges in a tree.
    * jesse and benji swing their necks to look at it, and in the second they’re distracted, they boy pushes jesse off him and rolls into a crouch near beca’s feet. beca freezes in terror as he lifts a large mace in her direction
    * “no!” jesse yells, and slices through the air with his axe. it makes contact with the boy in his side and blood immediately starts pouring from the wound. the boy falls over, and the cannon sounds
    * “DONALD!” a voice yells and another knife flies through the air, straight at jesse. beca’s too slow to react, her own axe flying at the district four girl, snarling in her perch in the nearby tree. it hits the girl’s leg and she stumbles from her branch and onto the ground, but it doesn’t matter
    * there’s a quiet gasping and beca spins back to see jesse on his knees, knife right between his shoulder blades. 
    * “no no no! Jesse!” benji falls in front of jesse, his hands on jesse’s shoulders. jesse stares at him, eyes wide.
    * “damn,” he whispers, and then starts to fall on his face. benji catches him, his entire front becoming drenched in jesse’s blood. 
    * “jesse?” beca squeaks, unable to believe the smile that’s ghosting over his lips as he looks at her. it’s so pale in comparison to the one he gave her on the train after the reaping. can it only have been two weeks ago?
    * “he isn’t dead, he can’t die!” benji cries, but just as he says that -
    * the cannon sounds




	11. Chapter 11

  * emily has school, but they show the first week of the games on screens during lunch, highlights and commentary by the announcers. there’s not much to see, probably because the initial bloodbath was so gory. the gamemakers never want the games to end too soon
  * there’s still action - she watches the district 1 tributes squabble (jesse or beca both aren’t there so she doesn’t much care) and they show the district 1, 2, and 4 kids discovering the hidden horror in the city. they don’t show it on camera to the audience… maybe they’re keeping the suspense? but whatever it is, the tributes are terrified of some kind of monster, several of them, which can only hunt by sound
  * emily prays jesse and beca just avoid the city


  * friday during lunch there’s a highlight reel showing the death of the boy from district 2. he’s walking quietly along the outskirts of the city and plains. there are small animals like rabbits in the grassy area and the careers have been trying to hunt in there. it’s far enough from the main city that as long as they’re not too loud, the sounds don’t attract the mysterious and deadly beasts
  * emily holds her breath as the camera shows jesse and benji hiding among the tall grass. what are they going to do? kill the boy? she almost can’t watch
  * as the district 2 boy moves closer, the two of them leap out. jesse tackles him to the ground.
  * “hello! please tell us what’s in the city and nobody gets hurt.” jesse says, almost pleasantly. emily doesn’t know if she should laugh - not that she can - at his chipper tone.
  * the district 2 boy must be in shock - he’s gaping up at jesse in surprise
  * “umm benji? so what can you make him do again?”
  * benji peers down at the boy. “anything really.”
  * “anything?”
  * “yes.”
  * they stare at each other, weighing that statement. emily isn’t even blinking. the cafeteria is silent, everyone watching as their district boy finally gets in on the action
  * “let’s just ask him about the city for now, okay?” jesse tries to sound easy-going but the fear in his voice is familiar to emily and she breathes in relief. jesse is still jesse
  * Benji pulls a long string out from around his neck. he got it on the first day near the cornucopia. emily sort of remembers that now
  * he leans over the district 2 boy, who’s not even squirming underneath jesse’s knees.
  * “how does it work?”
  * “just watch,” benji says, and he begins to methodically swing the pendant back and forth. the boy’s face goes slack. “which tributes are in the city with you?”
  * “pieter and kommissar from one,” the boys intones. “me. donald and calamity from 4.”
  * “what about the girl from your district?” benji asks. 
  * “not with us. we don’t know where she is.”
  * _with beca_ , emily thinks.
  * “what about the girl from my district?” jesse asks. “where is she?”
  * “we don’t know,” district 2 answers.
  * “what’s in the city?” benji asks. “supplies?”
  * the boy nods. “lots of supplies. but also beasts.”
  * at that moment, a hushed voice reaches them from just beyond the high grass. “zeke? we’re starving man… did you get food? i swear kommissar will have your ass if you didnt.”
  * benji and jesse look at each other. “let’s get out of here,” jesse whispers.
  * “we can’t just leave him,” benji hisses back. “he’ll tell his friends and they’ll come after us.”
  * “are you going to kill him then?”
  * benji hesitates, but in that second, the boy from 4, donald, bursts into their space.
  * “ZEKE!” he screams in surprise and lifts his mace. jesse rolls off zeke, his axe at the ready
  * then there’s a loud screech… a clearly inhuman one - and they all look toward the noise. 
  * “RUN” donald screams and they all book it away. donald, jesse, and benji run further into the plains toward the mountains, but zeke tries to make it back to the shelter of the nearest building in the city
  * the camera cuts to his face - twisted in terror - before the screeching gets louder, the camera shudders as whatever the creature is attacks. finally zeke’s body slumps on the ground, his insides spilling out. 
  * emily drops her fork in disgust and horror
  * the camera shows a shadowy four legged beast sprinting back into the city, tail swinging menacingly
  * zeke gasps for breath, his hands pushing at the slashes in his body, face paling as he bleeds out
  * jesse and benji creep back onto the scene. jesse takes one look at the boy, steadies his face, and swings his axe
  * emily shuts her eyes as the cannon goes off
  * “at least he wasn’t in pain for long,” jesse mutters, swinging his axe into the ground angrily. benji stands in silence. “what _was_ that thing?” 
  * the two of them stare into the city for a long time. then they slink back into the plains
  * the announcers come back on screen, gesturing wildly and exclaiming about the unknown beast
  * emily dumps her lunch tray and escapes to the bathroom where she starts to cry and can’t stop until lunch is over and they have to go back to class




	12. Chapter 12

  * she knows it’s a little weird because they don’t really know each other but emily’s been sleeping at chloe’s
  * it’s comforting, in some weird way. emily feels like there’s this knowledge hanging over her head that the chances of both jesse and beca dying are great, and soon it will just be her and chloe left with their grief
  * but at least they have each other
  * emily can hardly bare to think it, but sometimes she imagines just spending the rest of her life sitting quietly with chloe. she doesn’t want to think of their friends dying, but she can’t stop. can’t stop imagining the pain of the two of them being left
  * emily hadn’t really even stopped to consider that one of them might lose their person first, and how that would feel
  * but of course, that’s what happens


  * they watch the games nonstop over the weekend. neither of them really want to, but how could they not??? chloe’s mom hovers in the background, nervous and fond of beca and not liking chloe to be upset. but there’s nothing to do about it, so she hovers
  * stacie’s there sometimes too, when she doesn’t have to go take care of her sisters
  * quite a bit of planning begins to happen after the boy from district 2 dies
  * benji and jesse plan to try to track down donald or another of the people from the city to find out what’s in there and how they can stop it
  * the careers discuss their next moves - the girl from district 4 saw jesse kill zeke and knows donald is out there somewhere… it’s clear she’s planning something and emily’s fear for jesse skyrockets
  * the boy from district 12 accidentally knocks over a tracker jacker nest and spends days recovering in a cave
  * and beca and amy? they still wander through the woods, oblivious to what’s going on elsewhere in the arena
  * emily worries for jesse but she can’t help but wish they would show beca more
  * not showing jesse means there’s no action for him and he’s safe… and emily’s heart jumps every time beca makes a wry comment toward amy about her sponsors, and amy calls her lovergirl or teases her back about her girlfriend. 
  * “she’s not my girlfriend,” beca always says, and hides her face by looking at the ground
  * emily can feel chloe’s eyes on her in those moments, and doesn’t know how she feels
  * on sunday, jesse and benji track down donald in the forest. they try their same plan that they had with the district 2 boy, and it may be working, but emily has an awful feeling in her stomach when the TV suddenly split-screens
  * one shows jesse, benji, and donald, tussling on the ground
  * the second shows beca and amy coming up on their position
  * and the third - emily can barely keep her eyes open out of fear - shows the district 4 girl in the nearest tree, her throwing knives visible in her palms
  * chloe grabs her hand and squeezes so hard emily can’t feel her fingers
  * “beca?” jesse calls, his face lighting up in a smile. emily watches as the camera zooms in on beca’s face, dirty and scratched and looking horribly worn and tired
  * emily thinks there’s something really soft about her in that moment, her eyes widening at jesse, her mouth twitching
  * emily can’t breathe 
  * they begin to interrogate donald about the beast in the city. jesse claims donald knows how to tame it. benji does his terrifying hypnosis trick
  * jesse leans forward to hear better and then -
  * a knife whizzes past his head and sinks into the tree behind him
  * emily can’t watch but she can’t stop either
  * the distraction must break benji’s concentration because donald pushes the boys away from him and rolls on his feet
  * he’s closest to beca and emily knows what’s going to happen before it does
  * “NO” she and chloe scream almost at the same time, anticipating the mace flying toward beca’s head
  * but that doesn’t happen
  * jesse’s axe swings through the air just in time, knocking donald to the ground and slicing through him. the cannon sounds
  * emily covers her eyes
  * “DONALD” the district 4 girl yells in anguish and emily can’t watch she isn’t watching she -
  * “NO!” chloe screams again, her hand yanking from emily’s and emily whips her head up in time to see beca’s axe launch toward the girl in the tree and hit her in the leg. she falls from the tree, screaming out in agony
  * the camera cuts back and emily feels her stomach roll
  * jesse’s staring at beca, his eyes wide, his lips almost smiling. “damn,” he whispers, the camera close on his face
  * as he falls forward, emily sees the knife between his shoulder blades
  * beside her, chloe is sobbing, sobbing like she knew jesse, like she lost someone like this is the worst moment of _her_ life and not emilys 
  * and emily? she can’t move. her nose must be inches from the screen as benji cries, as beca reaches her hand out
  * “jesse?” beca squeaks… and the cannon goes off
  * “NO!” benji yells. “NO NO NO!”
  * he’s crying over jesse’s body and it doesn’t look real it cant be real it’s not _real_
  * but then beca is sprinting - sprinting away from jesse and benji and amy and the district 4 girl, bleeding on the ground
  * the camera follows her as she runs over rocky ground, higher into the mountains until she’s visibly panting and out of breath
  * then, with grace and agility emily has never seen before, beca scales a tree as high as she can go, until she’s cradled in its branches
  * and just as beca begins to cry, emily crumples in on herself with grief




	13. Chapter 13

  * the district is quiet. the square is full of people watching the screens, but as they show replay after replay of the most recent action, the double death of donald and then jesse, everyone is silent
  * emily walks behind the crowds, passes them, and moves on. she spends hours like this, walking around the district. from her small house to the square to the lumber yards to her favorite spot by the water and back again
  * maybe if she keeps moving her grief won’t overwhelm her, her confusion won’t catch up to her, her relief and sadness and warring emotions about jesse and beca will disappear
  * she pops her head into chloe’s once an hour to check the status of the games
  * chloe just shakes her head every time. “she’s still in the tree.”
  * and emily starts her circuit again


  * it’s like this for a few hours, but around hour 6, stacie comes jogging up to find her. “Em,” she calls, and emily’s heart starts beating too quick, frantic with fear
  * “did she - ”
  * “no, she’s still in the tree. but…” stacie crosses her arms, an annoyance crossing her face. “there are people here to see you. from the capitol.”
  * “what?”
  * “there’s 7 tributes left. they want to interview you. about beca.”
  * emily frowns. her best friend just _died_ and she’s supposed to meet some capitol bimbos and smile for the camera? “no, tell them to go away.”
  * “you know we can’t.”
  * “i don’t want to.”
  * “I know.”
  * stacie reaches her hand out, eyes understanding and puffy. stacie’s been crying too. emily sighs and takes it, letting stacie pull her into a hug.
  * they dont say anything, just stand there embracing for a minute. emily feels tears start to overwhelm her again, but she pushes them back
  * then they head back to chloe’s house
  * there’s a camera crew and a perky woman with curly sea-green hair buzzing around the space, trying to make it presentable for the camera. chloe seems uncharacteristically annoyed, her eyes narrowed at the intruders in her home.
  * “There you are!” the lady with the green hair scolds. “we’ve been waiting for you. i need to get these interviews out in the next few hours. they can’t keep the action on hold forever!”
  * _oh_. emily thinks. that’s right. the gamemakers try to let the interviews go live before anyone else dies. well. maybe beca is safe for now then.
  * the lady ushers chloe in front of the camera, fusses with her hair, puts on some light makeup. chloe makes eye contact with emily, alarmed about this buzzing insect of a woman. emily almost smiles
  * almost
  * they ask chloe about her friendship with beca, if she thinks beca can win, anything chloe might say to the audience that could help sponsors feel inclined to help their girl. chloe is sad, but charismatic and beautiful
  * when it’s emily’s turn, she feels like a bumbling idiot in comparison
  * “beca is currently hiding in a tree. an interesting strategy to be sure, but she’s been there for several hours with no indication she’ll come down. what do you think about this?” the lady asks, and emily stares at the blinking red light of the camera.
  * “uh. i mean jesse - i think - she’s sad, im sure”
  * the woman gives her an exasperated look but when emily doesnt continue, she huffs and moves on
  * “let’s get to the juicy stuff.” emily bristles at that. “beca volunteered for you, and it’s clear you two have a relationship. care to tell the audience about that? is it true love? how did you meet?”
  * “uh. we met… at school. true love? i mean, i…” emily is suddenly angry. these people just want some story, they don’t care about beca or them or the games or people dying. why should emily give them anything? how she should know how beca’s feeling and why she won’t come down from her tree? why she should tell them about the nature of her relationship with beca? she doesn’t want to. that’s for _her_. if beca dies, she especially doesn’t want to tell them. she wants to keep it close to her heart, keep the memory of beca swinging down from a tree, her face determined and beautiful. she wants to save it in her head, just for her, the way beca smiled at her, the way she was asking emily curious questions, the way she hummed in understanding when emily explained about the -
  * “i’m sorry,” emily blurts out suddenly. “i’m sorry i have to go.” she rips the microphone off her shirt and shoves it back into the lady’s hands.
  * there’s protests from everyone in the room, but emily ignores them, pushing out of chloe’s house and sprinting toward the square. she bounds up the steps of the justice building and through the doors to the front desk
  * “please!” she yells at the front desk boy. she must look a sight, out of breath and red from running. “please i need to get a message to the district 7 mentors!”
  * “uhh,” the boy searches for a pen, flustered and unaccustomed to people coming in with requests, surely. “about… what?”
  * emily throws her hands in the air. “about beca. beca mitchell!”
  * he stares at her and emily huffs.
  * “hurry!”
  * he scrambles up and into the hallway, the door closing behind him
  * emily leans against the desk, her head in her hands
  * please. god. please let this work




	14. Chapter 14

  * the day is hot. a typical summer heat, stagnant and humid
  * emily goes down to the water. sometimes the pond will pick up a cool breeze and offer some relief
  * today is one of those days and emily takes off her overshirt, leaving her in a tank top and shorts. she splashes water on her legs and lets the breeze hit them
  * she sticks her feet in the water, admiring the sand beneath her toes. it’s rocky and coarse, but she loves it anyway
  * she loves being down here, love the soft rustling of the trees all around, like they might hold secrets up in the branches and they’re whispering to each other, quiet and careful


  * she loves to come here to write. stories, poetry, songs. she wishes music wasn’t for just the wealthy, for capitol parties and televised events and sometimes for prayer songs at night
  * but still she loves to sing, and she loves to sit on the water’s edge and hum every melody in her head
  * it’s peaceful
  * this, emily thinks, this is her favorite place
  * a nervousness fills her as she thinks of the following day and what it might bring. the Reaping. emily’s second one
  * if her name is called, she may never come to this place again
  * the odds might not be in her favor. she’s just thirteen, and already has her name in twice for the years and eight times for _tesserae_
  * there surely are kids with more, but for someone her age, it’s not great
  * but she doesn’t want to think about that now. that’s why she came here. to think about something else
  * she takes the loose paper and pencil she stole from school out of her bag and begins to write
  * she gets lost in her head for awhile, starts singing along to the world that exists in there
  * she doesn’t notice when the breeze picks up, when the paper she’s lodged under a rock starts fluttering in the wind
  * a large gust of wind blows around her and the paper frees itself, getting caught on the current. it drifts in the air and emily lunges for it, but it falls into the water
  * “oh no,” she whines, reaching for it. she can’t swim, hasn’t learned how yet. jesse was supposed to teach her but he hasn’t had the chance, said they would do it later this summer
  * she reaches as far as she can in the water, not daring to drift past the rolled knees of her pants
  * “i got it” a voice calls and emily spins around, watching as a tiny figure swings down from a near tree branch, landing on the beach with grace
  * it’s a girl, in worn trousers and a shirt too big for her. she pulls it off so she’s in her undershirt like emily. then she wades into the water, her brown hair darkening as it gets wet
  * the girl laughs and ducks her head under water completely. emily thinks that wasn’t necessary, but she smiles when the girl comes back up for air, shooting a stream of water from her mouth. then she grabs the paper and swims back, emerging from the water one step at a time
  * “here ya go,” she says, handing the wet parchment back to emily. she wrings the water from her hair. “what’s a flashlight?”
  * emily blinks. “were you listening to me?”
  * “just a little,” the girl admits, a shy smile gracing her face. she’s the prettiest girl emily has ever seen. emily wonders if they go to the same school or if the girl is in the upper level. “i was in the tree.”
  * “oh,” emily says. “you know those lamps they have in district 12 for the miners?” the girl nods. “a flashlight is like that, but you hold it in your hand instead of putting it on a helmet.”
  * the girl hums in understanding. “do you have to plug it in? that wouldn’t be much use here. we only have electricity during the day for the saws.”
  * emily shakes her head. “no it uses batteries. i read about them. they have them in the capitol.”
  * “weird,” the girl says. “i like the song though.”
  * “thanks,” emily smiles. 
  * the girl nods, her cheeks pinking slightly. “you have a really pretty voice.”
  * emily blushes too. “thank you,” she says again.
  * “BECA!” a male voice calls, and the girl whips her head around. “time to come home!”
  * “that’s my dad,” the girl says. “gotta go.” she waves over her shoulder and emily watches her walk away, slow and deliberate like she doesn’t want to go home
  * _beca_ , emily thinks. she hopes the girl doesn’t get Reaped tomorrow. she was nice
  * they’re lucky. beca isn’t Reaped, and neither is emily. emily sees her at school sometimes, but they never speak again
  * at least not until three Reapings later… that’s when everything changes




	15. Chapter 15

  * as it gets dark, it starts to rain. just a little drizzle of a thing, not enough to make beca break for better shelter, but enough that she’s cold and uncomfortable
  * she wonders if it’s the gamemaker’s doing or if its something natural
  * she still has amy’s backpack and she opens it, sliding out a large pullover and slipping it over her head
  * then she leans back against the tree, perfectly perched in the branches, and pulls her knees up to her chest
  * there’s lightning in the distance, a warning, beca thinks, to get moving and stop being uninteresting in her tree
  * she doesn’t want to
  * let the gamemakers send their worst. she doesn’t give a fuck anymore. let her die in this damn tree


  * she can’t stop replaying it in her head
  * it’s all her fault
  * the district 4 boy turning toward her. her useless ass freezing, jesse saving her
  * and the knife, sticking out of his back, district 4′s revenge, benji’s desperate plea, and the blood. so much blood
  * beca’s stomach turns and she feels bile creep up her throat but she won’t do that won’t show _that_
  * god she wants to die
  * and worse, the anger, the anguish, that roared up inside her. how she had wanted to… to…
  * she clenches her hands, thinking of the district 4 girl
  * but beca doesn’t…
  * there’s something stirring inside her and beca’s afraid of it
  * between that and a hopeless wish to give up and die, she wants to choose death because at least that makes sense to her
  * darkness falls and beca’s thoughts swirl like this, an unending tunnel of grief and self-loathing
  * when the panem anthem plays, she plugs her ears and closes her eyes. she doesn’t want to hear this death-march of a song, doesn’t want to see jesse’s face in the sky
  * so she sticks her fingers in her ears and hums the first thing that comes to mind, an old song she remembers emily singing to herself one day by the water
  * tears pool in her eyes and she pushes them back, refuses to open them, doesn’t want some camera catching her private feelings of hopelessness and weakness
  * not that it matters, beca thinks. she hasn’t done anything to prove she deserves to win
  * not that she wants to deserve that. she thinks winning will be a heavy price to pay, something to carry in her chest that might break her in ways the horror of the arena won’t
  * no, beca thinks. death would be much easier, much sweeter. she sends a silent apology to her father, to chloe, to jesse, to district 7, to emily
  * and just as she’s thinking of the least painful ways to go, ones that might be dignified or quick, not too horrible for her loved ones to watch, a delicate flash of white drifts into her line of vision
  * on instinct, she reaches out, her fingers tangling in the strings of the parachute
  * she blinks in surprise
  * how on _earth_ could she have sponsors. she’s survived this long on pure luck, has shown no indication she has what it takes to win
  * her fingers tremble as she unties the small rectangular box from the strings and slides the top off
  * an unfamiliar black tube-like device rolls into her palm and beca frowns, twisting it around. there’s a button on the side and she presses it and -
  * almost falls out of the tree when a beam of light shines in her eyes
  * she clicks the button again and the light disappears. her heart beats fast with fear, wondering if she’d given her position away. she listens for as long as she can manage, barely daring to breathe, but eventually decides the other tributes must be far enough away, or sleeping. she’s safe for the moment
  * her heart still pounds and she clicks the button again, shielding the light as best as she can, and shines it in the paper attached to the box
  * _please come home - E_
  * beca pushes the button again, shutting off the light
  * she grips the black device - a _flashlight,_ her brain supplies - tight between her fingers
  * she doesn’t know how emily could afford this. maybe her mentors arranged it. maybe the flashlight is seen as useless and it wasn’t expensive
  * beca doesn’t know. does she care? she mulls it over, thinking
  * no, she decides at last, she doesn’t care
  * there’s a renewed stirring in her chest, something waking up that fills her with fear and anger and and and… power
  * she can do this. she threw her axe at that girl without thinking, didn’t she? she’s survived this long. sure, maybe on luck, maybe on the sacrifices of others, but you do what it takes, don’t you?
  * _please come home_
  * the light scrawl is familiar to beca, even though she only saw it once, several years ago. it’s as familiar to her as _her_ voice, as her laugh, as the brown of her eyes
  * _go home, beca_ , the beast in her chest whispers. _let’s go home_
  * and it’s dark, and beca’s hungry and cold, and she doesn’t know everything that lingers in the dangerous arena
  * but she gracefully lowers herself through the branches of the tree, alighting gently on the ground
  * _yes, beca_ , the beast whispers, and beca isn’t even horrified to realize it sounds like her own voice egging her on. _take us home_




	16. Chapter 16

  * Beca’s spurred on by the pulsing of her own heart in her chest. She finds it amazing that it’s still beating when so many others in this arena have stopped
  * She moves stealthily through the forested area around her. Even in the darkness, this is her kind of terrain, a home field advantage almost
  * She heads back toward the part of the arena where she’d last seen the district 4 girl, benji, and amy
  * where she’d last seen jesse…
  * she pushes the thought away
  * _nothing you can do about that_ , says the beast in her head
  * what beca really wants to do is storm the cityscape. she’s ready for this fight to be over. she’s ready to take them all out, the careers, the mutts, everything
  * but the logical part of her _brain_ says she shouldn’t do it alone. the hardened part of her _heart_ says there’s something - someone - she needs to take care of first


  * she doesn’t have any weapons - she threw her axe at district 4 and left it when she ran - just the flashlight emily sent her, and she grips it tight in her fingers as she travels
  * it’s solid, and she can hit someone with it in a pinch, but mostly, it’s grounding her in reality in a time when everything’s a little warped, when her morals aren’t relevant and her head’s not on quite straight
  * finally she comes up to the place jesse had -
  * _there_ , the beast whispers, seeing benji and amy asleep against a tree. beca supposes amy was supposed to be keeping watch.
  * _not yet_ , beca tells the beast, and she wonders why benji and amy haven’t left this spot when it was so clearly marked with death and bad omens
  * her axe is leaning up against the tree and she creeps up, careful not to disturb the sleeping tributes
  * she tucks her flashlight in the tight waistline of her pants and hefts her axe, feeling relief and the familiar weight of it in her hands
  * where… 
  * beca looks around, her eyes squinting in the darkness, the arena lit only by the moon
  * there -
  * on the ground, a few dark splotches leading a few trees away
  * beca gets it now, why benji and amy are still here. she peers up into the tree, seeing the slumped form of the district 4 girl in its branches
  * she must have gotten away, and benji and amy weren’t expert tree climbers like beca or jesse… they must be waiting her out
  * district 4 is sleeping, or beca supposes the more likely option, passed out. she’s bleeding profusely from her leg, the long slash mark barely wrapped in the mesh of the girls overshirt, which she’s stripped off and tried to use to make a tourniquet
  * anger surges inside beca, a desire for vengeance and - and pain and - _i just want to go home_ , she reminds herself. _just get us home_
  * she opens amy’s backpack, sliding her axe inside and slinging it back over her shoulders, the pocket still open
  * then she leaps off her feet, as quiet as the whispering of the wind, and she does what she does best
  * she climbs
  * she moves with ease through the branches, but it hardly matters. district 4 is barely out of reach, too weak, tired, or inexperienced to make it very high
  * beca skirts around her, holding her breath, feeling adrenaline in her blood, fear in her heart, anger in her bones
  * she perches in the branch above the girl, reaching into the bag for her axe
  * perhaps she senses beca, or maybe beca made some noise, but the girl’s eyes fly open
  * it’s too late
  * before she can scream, beca’s axe swings, and with the precise aim of someone who’s used such a tool - such a weapon - her whole life, beca’s cut is clean
  * the girl’s head hits the forest floor with a thump, and the cannon sounds immediately
  * below her, benji and amy jerk awake, benji jumping to his feet and swinging around, looking for the source of the chaos
  * _one down_ , the voice in beca’s head whispers, cringing as she watches benji and amy peer up at her in her shock
  * _five to go_




	17. Chapter 17

  * Beca lands on the forest floor in a crouch next to the head of the district 4 girl. Benji gapes at her, but Amy just raises an eyebrow.
  * “ _head_ in out, lovergirl?”
  * Beca says nothing, just waits for the invisible hovercraft to come and take away what’s left of district 4. after a moment it lifts the body away, and beca turns back to the others.
  * benji is quiet, staring at her suspiciously. amy, however, leans against the tree beca’d been in, crossing her arms.
  * “so i assume you have a plan, then?”
  * beca nods. “i’m going into the city. one of us is going home.”


  * _we are_ , the beast in beca’s head whispers. _take out the mousy one right now and be done with it_.
  * she ignores it. “there’s 3 of us and 3 of them left. that gives one of us a pretty good chance of winning.” beca quirks an eyebrow at amy. “unless it’s 4 of you and then just benji and i here.”
  * amy scoffs. “sorry but im a free range pony. the way i see it, it’s 5 of you and the superior power of just me.” then she shrugs. “but i’ll bite because i admire your work with district 4′s head. 3 of us and 3 of them then.”
  * benji still hasn’t said anything so beca turns to him. “well? you in?”
  * benji reluctantly nods. “jesse trusted you, so i do too.”
  * “okay” beca says. “and he didn’t underestimate you and neither do i.”
  * “then what’s the plan?” he asks
  * “first i need you to tell me how that thing works.” she points to the pendant he got at the cornucopia. “some kind of capitol mind control device?”
  * “of course not.” benji gives a small smile. “i don’t doubt they have that, but there’s no way they’d reveal it to us by giving it to a tribute in the games.”
  * “then what is it?”
  * he dangles it in front of her and beca eyes it warily. “it’s just an old trick that’s been passed down in my family since before the Dark Days. it’s like an illusion really. it puts the recipient into a state of calm so they’re receptive to your suggestions.”
  * beca frowns. “sounds like mind control dude.”
  * “it’s not foolproof” benji says. “it can be resisted by someone expecting it.” he shrugs. “my grandmother used to use the technique back in district 12 to get the peacekeepers to drop charges against children caught stealing food but it occurred to me during training that it could be used in less… civilized ways”
  * he makes eye contact with beca, his gaze a blaze of determination, as if daring beca to judge or challenge him. 
  * she thinks of her fury at the district 4 girl, how she’d practically killed her in her sleep. some kind of old moral code she once had, one that didn’t involve murder, would’ve called it cowardly to not give someone a fighting chance. but that code disappeared the second she saw that knife sticking out of jesse’s back, his blood on her hands, and him, smiling in her direction to reassure her weakly that it was alright, even as the life vanished from his eyes 
  * beca grips the flashlight under her waistband, her heart beating fast
  * _we do what it takes to survive_ the beast in her chest purrs.
  * “we’ve been in here a week” she says finally. “unless the gamemakers interfere, im ready for this to end. tonight.”
  * they look at her, and beca wonders if they’re thinking the same thing as she is: if they go through with this, then one of them wins and goes home, or all three of them will be dead by morning
  * “alright then lovergirl,” amy says. “what’s the plan?”




	18. Chapter 18

  * beca’s heart echoes in her ears as she creeps through the outskirts of the city. darkness presses around her like a veil, heavy and stifling, but not as much so as the fear she feels pushing against her chest and making it hard to breathe
  * every step feels like a death sentence. one wrong move, one crackle of gravel, one sound at all, could be the last one she makes
  * she eases her back against the nearest building, a dilapidated shack with rotted wood. she listens as hard as she can, but doesn’t hear a sound. there is no sign of movement in the dark around her
  * she turns back the direction she came and clicks the button on her flashlight twice, light flashing on and off quicker than she can imagine. 
  * then she waits
  * this was their plan. creep into the city one at a time, first beca, then benji, and finally amy, little by little, until they found the others. and then -
  * well, she’s just praying they don’t die before that


  * she thinks it must be quick, but it feels like an hour by the time both benji and amy appear by her side, their faces pale and ghostly in the black of the night. beca nods firmly and continues into the city
  * they make their way like this, slow and silent. the closer they get to the center of the cityscape, the less run-down the buildings become until the three of them feel like ants among the skyscrapers shooting up like trees around them
  * beca wonders if this city existed before the Dark Days, or if it was a recent creation, developed solely for the Games
  * beca tries not to breathe too loudly as she makes her way toward the tallest skyscraper. this, they figured, would be where the others were. this had to hold the most supplies, the best shelter, but would be, of course, the most dangerous, far from the outskirts where the reach of the mutts disappears. they have yet to encounter one, and beca prays with all her might that it stays that way
  * finally she reaches the tallest building, its silvery modern exterior shining even the darkness. she gives the signal again, flashing her light in the direction she’d come
  * then she waits
  * it isn’t long before she hears benji’s ragged breath behind her, and she spins around to glare at him for the noise
  * only to find a knife at her throat
  * she clamps down the scream that threatens to push its way past her lips
  * she almost doesn’t recognize the boy from 10, his face swollen and red, puffy with the unmistakable mark of tracker jacker stings
  * but his grin is familiar, the twisted smile of a boy who believes he’s entitled to victory
  * beca’s frozen in fear - her grip on her flashlight going slack. her hatchet hangs from her bag, and she knows if she reaches for it, her already dwindling seconds of life left to live will vanish completely
  * “where are the others” he whispers, so quietly beca can barely hear
  * “i don’t know” she mouths back
  * “i saw you signalling them”
  * _think beca_ , but she can’t, can’t think of any weaknesses she learned in training about this boy. she only remembers how he harassed benji and how jesse had stepped between them
  * jesse was always stepping in between, for benji, for beca. he had died stepping between them and danger. but he wasn’t here anymore - it was just beca and bumper and a very sharp knife
  * she closes her eyes, hoping he ends it quickly, so that nobody will see her feel pain and suffer, not her dad or chloe or emily
  * “tell me where the others -”
  * he gasps and beca frowns and opens her eyes, meeting the shocked gaze of bumper. he opens his mouth and blood spills out
  * beca looks over his shoulder wildly as benji pulls a sword out of bumper’s back, his expression one of cold loathing and pity
  * she remembers jesse telling her not to underestimate him and shivers
  * bumper falls with a muted thud, his eyes staring up at her in shock as blood continues to trickle from his lips
  * the whole thing is near silent, so beca jumps when the close sound of a cannon booms into the air
  * _another one down_ , the beast whispers in her head. _4 more to go_
  * and some kind of relief, some kind of sudden hope flickers in her chest
  * but it’s quickly replaced by a tsunami of fear when she hears the unmistakable growling of a terrible beast behind her




	19. Chapter 19

  * every instinct in beca tells her to run, to kick it into high gear and put as much distance between the mutt and herself as possible
  * instead she shuts her eyes and holds her breath, trying to make herself small and silent
  * a strong stench of decay and rotten breath envelops her. her body trembles. it’s all she can do not to scream or faint or pee her pants probably
  * she peeks her eyes open, too terrified to not see what’s happening 
  * benji’s frozen in front of her, his face pale and horrified, mouth open in a silent scream.
  * his eyes are transfixed on a spot over her shoulder.
  * there’s another low growl and he flinches. 
  * beca can’t help it - she looks behind her.


  * the mutt reminds her of a dog - a horrible dog, ugly and feral and malformed.
  * it has no eyes, just a large forehead with holes crossing it in a mismatched line - its nostrils. its ears are large and flappy, and its whiskers long and wiry. beca’s stomach clenches as it seems to sniff the air, its head tearing from side to side. 
  * its ears twitch, its whiskers vibrate like long antennae.
  * her heart feels like a pounding hammer in her chest as she turns back to benji. his wide eyes meet hers, red and wet with fear.
  * she slowly brings her finger to her lips, brain spinning wildly, knowing they have only seconds before the creature smells bumper’s blood and steps toward them.
  * she thinks of her axe over her shoulder, knows drawing it would certainly alert the creature to their position, but perhaps she could be fast enough, what other choice does she have? maybe she could kill it? maybe she could -
  * THWAP
  * beca jumps a mile, her feet crunching on the gravel, but the creature has turned away from her, toward the sudden sound of a fight, skin on skin, somewhere around the corner of the building. it lets out a wild snarl and, with speed beca cant comprehend for such a large beast, runs away from them. 
  * beca doesn’t think. just slings her axe off her shoulder and runs after it, benji on her heels.
  * her feet slip on the gravel but she manages to catch herself on the cool metal of the skyscraper as she whips around the tight corner. 
  * she’s just in time to see amy release a tight wrestling grip on the giant boy from district 1. the two fling themselves to the side as the mutt leaps in the air toward them
  * they manage to roll away just in time as its monstrous paws thud into the ground, its whiplike tail soaring through the spot amy’s head had just been.
  * “wait your turn, bitch!” amy calls toward the mutt. “one at a time, im taking care of this sausage first!”
  * beca moans weakly as the beast turns toward her ally, but benji has already acted. he charges forward with a wild yell, his sword swinging through the air.
  * the beast whips around, its mouth opening to show a row of razorlike teeth dripping with saliva. 
  * the sword connects with the monster’s neck with a loud crunch as it slices through its spine. it lets out a final screech as its head flies off, blood the color of copper sploshing over the ground.
  * its body falls with a final _thud_
  * benji drops his sword, hands shaking uncontrollably, a whimper pushing its way out of his throat.
  * it’s the last sound he ever makes
  * the large hands of the district 1 boy settle on the sides of his face, twisting with a practiced ease that has beca’s stomach rolling. 
  * benji’s neck cracks and he drops to the ground.
  * in the distance, a cannon booms.
  * beca screams.




	20. Chapter 20

  * somewhere in the back of beca’s mind, it registers that there are only 4 of them left. beca, amy, this monster of a boy and his partner from district 1
  * in the front of her mind, she just sees benji’s lifeless form on the ground, his neck hanging at an awkward angle, the puddle of blood growing around him
  * the beast inside her snarls with a fury, an anger, pulsing red and hot
  * “poor district 12. so puny” grins the boy from district 1, his hands coated with liquid crimson. beca and amy glare at him, panting from exertion
  * “it’s 2 on 1, beefcake” amy says. “maybe you should run, or else prepare to perish”
  * beca hesitates, trying to seem tough and larger than she is, but fear is holding hands with her heart. “yeah… uh. what she said.”


  * the boy laughs, a psychotically carefree thing that causes goosebumps to break across beca’s skin. “you two didnt honestly think we were alone?” he quirks his head, and that’s when beca hears it
  * the echoing snarl of beasts - many of them - just as the girl from district 1 jumps out of the second story window of the skyscraper next to them, landing in a crouch
  * beca’s heart gets caught in her throat as terror seizes her
  * the district 1 girl smirks “well well well, a tiny mouse and her bodyguard. this is about to get interesting”
  * something about the words infuriates beca. she reacts without thinking. she throws her axe in the direction of the girl
  * she ducks and it whizzes over her head
  * “feisty,” she laughs. “but enough chit chat… we’ve got company.”
  * the sound of claws scratching over the concrete of the cityscape grows to a terrifying volume as a group of mutts - at least 5 of them from what beca can see - bound around the corner
  * beca doesnt stop to think – she runs, weaponless and afraid. a beast leaps at her and she throws herself on the ground. it overshoots and lands to her left, circling back around. she scrambles to her feet and dives into the nearest building, not daring to look back
  * the inside of the building is cool tile, slippery and smooth. beca slides across it, barely registering the decor, a minimalist black and white that had at one point been popular before the Dark Days
  * she makes a beeline for another door, throwing herself through it - only to stop… it’s a dead end, an old closet, clearly recently picked clean by the careers who’d been camping out in the city. it’s completely empty
  * she can hear the growling of at least one beast behind her, can smell the foul stench of its breath. she holds completely still, not daring to breathe
  * it takes everything in her not to make a sound when it pokes its snout into the closet, its nose just a foot from beca’s torso
  * she covers her mouth with her hand, her breathing ragged
  * the beast sniffs, its large line of nostrils flexing with the motion, its head tilting toward beca. it opens its mouth, revealing its razorlike teeth… 
  * the moment seems to stretch in slow motion, beca quivering in her bones, waiting for the sharp jaw of the mutt to close around her
  * and then… miraculously, the mutt huffs, its mouth closing with a snap. it turns away from beca, pushing off on its hind legs to run back the way it came
  * beca whimpers, her feet giving out as she slides down to the floor, her head in her hands. she gasps in several lungfulls of air, her cheeks wet
  * _get up_ , the monster in her urges. _time to go home, beca_
  * trembling, she manages to push up on her knees and crawl out of the closet, back into the lobby of the skyscraper
  * that’s when she sees it – piled in the corner, all of the careers’ supplies. weapons, food, clothing. she can’t believe her eyes. numbly she crawls over to the pile. finally… something to help her survive
  * “i dont think so,” sneers the familiar voice of the boy from district 1
  * beca hears movement as he dives at her
  * she grabs the nearest weapon off the pile, a small knife, and manages to flip on her back just as the boy lunges toward her, his hands held out to grab her by the neck
  * she feels the knife pierce into his soft skin, just under his ribcage, as his hands outstretch
  * she pulls her neck away from him, the knife twisting in further
  * hot liquid spreads on her hands, thick and red. she gags, but can’t think about it
  * the boy is still reaching for her, his eyes dark and twisted, even with the knife jutting into his body
  * beca doesn’t know how she does it, doesnt think about it, just angles the knife upward
  * the boy lets out another gasp, blood gurgling from his lips, and stops his efforts to get his hands around her neck
  * he looks at beca in shock, gravity pulling him further down on the knife as his body slumps on top of her
  * finally, he crushes down, his full weight falling on her body, her hand between them on the cold silver of the knife
  * a cannon booms, but beca cant find it in her to react to it
  * it takes all her strength to push the boy’s lifeless body off of her, her fingers still curled around the weapon that killed him
  * _yes,_ she finally answers the beast in her mind, the one that sounds frighteningly like her own voice, _time to go home_




	21. Chapter 21

  * beca pushes off of the ground, her breath ragged, her fingers clenched around her knife. the blood of the boy from district 1 drips from the end, but she doesn’t have it in her to care. she wipes it on her pants and turns to the pile of supplies in front of her
  * she scans it quickly, looking for anything that might help her. most of the weapons are useless to her. she doesn’t know how to shoot a bow and arrow and the sword looks way too heavy for her. she grabs a metallic baton, having no idea what it’s for but she thinks she could hit someone over the head with it
  * numbly, she leaves the pile and creeps through the empty building lobby back to the entrance, and peers out of the splintered windows. the night still hangs heavy, dark and thick. she can’t see very far, but it looks clear, so she steps outside


  * the distant sounds of snarling and very-human yelling reach her ears. despite her better judgment, she makes her way toward the sounds
  * as she gets closer, she peeks around the corner of a building and takes in the scene.
  * the mutts have cornered amy and kommissar, the two of them having climbed up a rickety metallic ladder attached to a building. _fire escape_ , beca’s distant mind supplies. the mutts growl beneath them, hearing the creaking of metal as it shifts under amy and kommissar’s weight. the ladder swings precariously and the mutts growl impatiently, waiting for it to give out.
  * beca takes the baton she grabbed from the supply pile and flings it in the opposite direction of herself and the ladder. it clatters off in the near-distance and all the mutts whip their heads toward the sound. they blindly run after it and beca hurries up to the ladder. they’re distracted for a moment, but they won’t be for long
  * “amy,” she whisper-yells. “this thing is gonna fall. here!” she reaches her hand up toward her ally. amy peers down at her. above them, kommissar has already begun to climb down. in just a minute, she’ll be at their level.
  * amy takes a careful hand off the ladder, but as her weight shifts, the ladder creaks and swings with a violent jolt. amy slips – 
  * and crashes down on top of beca. with a sickening _crack,_ beca’s ankle twists and gives out, the two of them slamming into the ground. beca’s head hits the concrete and she sees stars
  * the snarling of the beasts pauses, then beca hears the scraping of their claws as their attention moves back to their human prey once again
  * amy pushes off of beca but beca can’t move, her vision still swimming, her ankle throbbing
  * “well, we had a good run lovergirl. i’ll see you on the otherside.”
  * “here,” beca holds her knife up for amy to take, but amy just laughs
  * “no, you got it wrong. im done. this has been… way too much cardio. you better win though or i’ll kill you.”
  * and with that, she runs off, screaming over her shoulder as she goes. “hey ugly dogs, LET’S WRESTLE!”
  * the mutts let out a collective howl, bodies skidding across the concrete as their attention is diverted by amy’s sudden yell. they run after her. in the distance, their snarling grows louder until a sudden _boom_ rocks the air. a cannon blast marking another fallen tribute
  * beca doesn’t have time to do anything other than feel _shock_ at amy’s self-sacrifice because the heavy weight of a body lands on her. she jumps, her knife flying from her fingers as hands grip her around the neck
  * “goodbye tiny mouse”
  * beca gasps for air as the hands squeeze her windpipe closed. she glares up at the girl from district 1, unable to move. she reaches for her knife, just inches away, can feel the metal on the edge of her fingertips, but it’s too far.
  * she’s weaponless and afraid, out of air and _dying_ god she’s about to die, just like this, she’s _dying_ oh god
  * the girl’s body presses in on her, her weight heavy on beca, pushing the cylinder at her belt into beca’s skin
  * beca doesn’t think as she reaches between their bodies, reacts purely on instinct and desperation. she pulls the flashlight from her belt and points it upward into the face of the girl as she clicks the button at the top
  * a piercing light illuminates the darkness, shining into the eyes of the girl. she shrieks, her grip on beca loosening as she tries to block the light
  * beca gasps in a breath and rolls to the side, grabbing her knife. in one fluid motion she grips it and brings it up, stabbing it between kommissar’s shoulder blades with all her strength
  * kommissar gasps and beca squeezes her tighter, nearly hugging her to her chest as she forces the blade in with all her might. she twists it and blood pours over her hands, slippery and wet. kommissar’s breathing goes ragged, coming out in pants into beca’s face until a clump of blood spurts out, directly into beca’s eyes. it’s warm and thick and beca can’t think, she can’t think, she just pushes the knife in as far as it will go
  * finally, kommissar slumps on top of her, her weight nearly crushing beca underneath.
  * beca’s heart is going so fast she barely hears the cannon over the pounding of it in her ears
  * she lets out a sob, but she can’t tell the difference between the hot blood and tears on her cheeks
  * suddenly, overhead, a speaker crackles to life, and claudius templesmith’s voice booms into the night. “Ladies and Gentlemen! I am pleased to announce the winner of the Sixty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games! Your victor, of District 7, Beca Mitchell!”
  * Beca doesn’t hear applause, doesn’t hear music, although she thinks something is playing over the speakers. She just hears her own ragged breathing as an invisible hovercraft materializes above her, the one that will take her home
  * _It’s time_ , she tells the voice in her head, the one that’s finally gone silent, or maybe it was her all along, maybe it was just her voice she was hearing, maybe she’s the beast, maybe it’s her - the snarling monster… maybe… maybe… the tears on her face come quicker as she grips the ladder that’s descended from the hovercraft and it lifts her into the air
  * _It’s time to go home_




	22. Chapter 22

  * “i’m ready for this to end. tonight.”
  * beca says the words and emily’s heart _drops_. it must fall all the way to her stomach because she suddenly feels like she might throw up.
  * next to her, chloe has gone still and silent. they’ve just watched beca kill a girl, and now, her face bathed in shadow, she looks almost like she was made of darkness


  * it’s nighttime in the arena, but outside of chloe’s window, the sun beats down on district 7 with a fury, making emily sweat. or maybe that’s just the look on beca’s face, foreign and skeletal
  * emily’s stomach turns and she chokes back the urge to throw up
  * they creep into the city, one after the other, using the flashlight emily had asked for, pooling the money of everyone she could in the square to help their victor. she didn’t get much, but she got enough it seemed, because just three hours after she handed it over at the city building with a message, she watched beca climb down from that tree, the flashlight in her hands
  * emily just hopes she didn’t catalyze some sort of suicide mission
  * when the screen splits four ways, emily nearly faints
  * in one corner, beca standing still and quiet as she peeks around the corner of a skyscraper, flicking the flashlight on and off
  * in another corner, amy and benji creeping through the city
  * in the third corner, the district 1 tributes hiding out
  * and in the last corner, the boy with the tracker jacker stings, somehow still in the games, slinking up behind beca, mouth twisted in an evil grin
  * when he puts the knife to beca’s skin, emily gasps out a sob
  * chloe’s hand squeezes her wrist so tight she cant feel her fingers
  * and then – chaos
  * emily almost can’t follow it all, it happens so fast
  * bumper keeling over, dead by benji’s sword
  * benji on the ground, pieter smug above him
  * the horrible beasts, finally shown on the camera, with their twisted whiskers and floppy ears and terrible eyeless faces
  * they chase down the tributes, one after the other and emily thinks, _this is it_ , this is how beca dies, cornered in a closet… but then she’s safe, the mutt turning away
  * and then again, emily thinks, _beca will die_ , her neck snapped the same way benji’s was, but then – no, beca wriggles out from under the lifeless body of the district 1 boy.
  * and _again_ , emily can’t breathe, fights back nausea, watches beca trapped on the ground, mutts hovering over her… and then they’re not, then they’re following amy away and it’s just beca left, just beca and kommissar, wrestling on the ground
  * beca, weaponless and tiny, and emily’s stomach roils, it twists, she can’t breathe
  * she wonders if the capitol can manipulate the speed of live television on their screens, wonders if they slow it down or if emily’s heart is going so fast that everything else seems much slower
  * she watches as beca wiggles the flashlight from her waistband, flashing it in kommissar’s eyes. the large girl shrieks, and beca rolls, grabbing the tiny knife she used to kill pieter. she thrusts it into kommissar’s back, an embrace that happens at half-speed
  * kommissar spurts a mouthful of blood into beca’s face and goes limp
  * then everything is silent, the camera zooming in on beca
  * she slumps into the ground, her cheeks caked with dirt and blood so thick it’s nearly black
  * she’s visibly shaking, breathing ragged and weak
  * but there’s something in her expression, some terrible thrill, some horrible triumph and emily, through her fear, her nausea, her own quiet turmoil, wonders…
  * _“Ladies and Gentlemen! I am pleased to announce the winner of the Sixty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games! Your victor, of District 7, Beca Mitchell!”_
  * tears run down beca’s cheeks as she stares blankly into space, directly into an invisible camera, and her lips twitch minutely, a ghost of a smile, one that says _relief_ and _shock_ and – emily wonders…. a victorious _satisfaction_
  * that’s when finally, after, everything, emily throws up




	23. Chapter 23

  * it is known throughout the district that little else compares to the leaves of district 7. when the season turns, the leaves seem to melt into different colors, an entire spectrum of light across the treeline
  * beca walks down to the lake, to _their_ lake, admiring the leaves as she goes. she loves the green of them, fresh and new, and she loves the orange, like a sunset painting the sky. the yellow, like the golden light that dances through emily’s hair in the summer. the reds leave her feeling uneasy, a spattering of a memory floating to the surface somewhere from the realm of consciousness, but she can’t think about that
  * she smiles when emily comes into view, sitting on the edge of the dock, her feet submerged in water up to the ankles
  * beca feels a nervousness rise in her, one she can’t explain


  * emily hasn’t seen her so she climbs into the tree she always climbs in, the quiet rustling of the trees almost indistinguishable from the breeze
  * she perches on a branch and that uneasiness tugs on her consciousness, like a place she’s been before for much different reasons, but she can’t place it
  * instead she listens to emily’s voice, so sweet against the backdrop of autumn, warm and welcoming and hopeful
  * _come down_ emily says, laughter in her voice. _we know you’re up there_
  * beca peers through the changing leaves, lips twitching in a smile
  * _we?_
  * emily finally turns to look at her, but the smile on her face is stretched too wide, like a wax figure like a mask like it’s melting and morphing and and and – _wrong_
  * beca flinches, afraid, and she knows it’s wrong, wanting to climb higher, to climb _away_ from emily – or this emily-but-not-emily – but she can’t help it
  * _we can’t wait to see you_ emily giggles but it’s _wrong_ it’s wicked it’s deep it’s not-emily
  * beca gasps as figures suddenly emerge from the water behind not-emily and she scrambles higher in the tree, reservations forgotten as the shadowy figures materialize, ghosts of figures beca barely recognizes
  * _we can’t wait to see you_ , sneers the girl from district 4
  * _you belong with us_ , grins the boy from district 10
  * _you are ours,_ says the boy from district 1
  * _you’re one of us,_ whispers the girl from 1
  * and then him – reaching up through the branches, his smile so kind, so easy, so familiar even from here
  * _stop!_ beca screams. _leave me alone!_
  * _you did this beca,_ jesse says easily, his hand extended pleasantly, _you made us this_
  * _no,_ beca sputters, edging higher in the tree as his hand reaches through the leaves, his fingers inches from beca’s foot. _i didn’t have a choice, i didn’t mean to, i didn’t do this_
  * _didn’t you?_
  * _i didn’t make you this… you’re just a shadow_
  * _and what are you?_
  * beca tries to scoot backward on the branch, but her body gives out underneath her and she slips – she falls she falls she falls, her body plummeting toward the ground toward the dead leaves in the grass, toward death 
  * she braces herself for impact and –
  * her eyes fly open as she jerks awake and she shoots upward, clutching at her chest
  * outside the window, the train rattles on, sending her back to district 7
  * she puts her head in her hands, surprised to find her cheeks wet
  * she wipes them and curls up, knees to chest, and rests her head against the window, watching the as the trees start to turn familiar the longer the train speeds onward, bringing her home
  * home… it’s all she’s been able to think about since she was in the arena… during the games and the horrible days after, healing in the capitol’s med-center, rewatching the game highlights, the post-game interview where she felt robotic and detached, like her answers were scripted
  * all she remembers from her time onstage with caesar was the moment she had expressed how much she just wanted to go home and he had smiled knowingly at her
  * “to emily, you mean? she’ll be so happy to see you”
  * and beca had, for the first time, come to the stark realization that she would be reunited with emily. she had thought, until the end, that they would never see each other again
  * now, as the train pulls up to the district 7 station, beca feels a stretching anxiety in her stomach
  * how could she face any of them? how could she face her father? her friends? 
  * and emily… the girl for who she volunteered, a distant stranger she barely knew at all
  * surely emily would want reasons for beca’s actions. reasons beca didn’t have
  * and surely… surely… she would want beca to answer for jesse’s death
  * surely she would hate beca – beca the coward, beca the murderer, beca the spineless
  * beca, who watched emily’s best friend die while she sat on the sidelines and did nothing
  * a celebration meets her ears as the train doors slide open and beca peers out nervously. the roar of applause and cheering from a blur of bodies crashes over her and it makes her entire body shake with nerves and regret and fear
  * then the faces at the front crystallize, coming into focus
  * her father, a sad smile on his lips as he rushes to hug her
  * stacie and chloe – both in tears as they pull her into their arms
  * and then – emily. just staring, taking beca in like it’s the last chance, like she expected to never see her again, like she’s finally breathing again after holding her breath for too long
  * and then her arms wrap beca in a hug, one around beca’s waist, one holding beca’s head to her chest
  * “welcome home,” she whispers into beca’s hair, her nose brushing over beca’s forehead
  * and for the first time since the reaping, beca feels…
  * safe




	24. Chapter 24

  * Beca can tell the moment they both realize the underlying horror of everything that’s happened the past few weeks and the striking weirdness of their relationship
  * they both seem to stiffen at the same time, emily’s arms going rigid, beca completely stilling
  * they don’t know each other, haven’t ever embraced in such a way… haven’t ever embraced at all really, except for that desperate frantic hug right before beca was taken away for the games
  * beca pulls back, her own arms wrapping around herself as if she could replace the tenderness she felt in emily just a moment ago… but it’s gone with emily’s arms, falling back to her sides
  * still, emily’s giving her a look, strong and intense, like she can’t bear to blink even once now that beca’s back in front of her
  * beca doesn’t know what to do with that and her eyes fixate on the ground


  * soon the crowd grows restless of beca’s friends and family hogging their victor and she gets pulled away. she shakes hands with strangers, receives congratulations and thanks and well-wishes from what seems like everyone in district 7
  * she hates it, doesn’t want to have won like this. doesn’t like that they’re celebrating when the families of 23 others are mourning. when jesse’s family is out there mourning
  * what beca really wants is to be alone, back in her room at her tiny house near the lake where it’s just her and dad
  * but the thought of being alone isn’t exactly comforting either, so she feels horribly stuck between wanting solitude and needing a distraction from the grief, from the horror, from feeling anything at all
  * she finds a kind of middle ground several hours into the celebration, after the feasting and the dancing. she sneaks down an alley and sinks to her knees, hidden in the darkness. she can hear the sounds of the party in the distance and takes a moment to just breathe, leaning against the wooden building behind her and shutting her eyes on the cool night
  * the sound of careful footsteps, not loud but not so quiet so as to startle her, crunches over the gravel a few minutes later. she opens her eyes as emily eases down next to her
  * they sit in silence for a long time, not quite touching, but beca can feel the warmth of emily’s body heat and finds an unexpected comfort in that
  * there’s a lot she wants to say, but nothing she feels that she should. what could she say that would be justified? what could she say that would sound genuine and right?
  * she can’t talk about the games but how could they talk about anything else either? she finds she can’t really speak at all
  * emily seems content to sit in silence anyway, and the two of them just breathe into the night
  * “they’re probably looking for me” beca says at last, feeling like they’ve been away too long, like if the positions were switched she wouldn’t want her loved ones to be out of sight after all that for more than a minute
  * “yeah” emily agrees, the word barely a breathy exhale
  * neither of them make any move to get up
  * “i don’t think i can go back” beca whispers
  * emily looks at her, her long hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her dark eyes nearly invisible against the backdrop of night 
  * she reaches her hand out, tentative and gentle, and twines her fingers with beca’s
  * they feel rough against beca’s, soft and scarless and manicured to perfection in her post-games capitol treatment
  * “whatever you want to do is what we’ll do”
  * beca squeezes emily’s fingers, adjusting to the unfamiliarity of them between her own, but liking the weight of emily’s hand in hers just the same
  * “why are you here? i mean…” beca swallows “you don’t owe me for what i did, okay? i just… there’s no debt to be repaid or… or reason you need to be with me. i just did it and it’s done now and… you don’t need to be here with me”
  * emily exhales thickly, her palm sweaty against beca’s. “i don’t think i really belong anywhere else tonight”
  * beca has nothing to say to that, doens’t want emily to feel guilty or like she owes beca… but she’s glad emily’s here anyway. she curls her knees to her chest, resting her head against the wood of the building behind her
  * “okay” she says
  * “okay”
  * they sit like that for a long time, until the sounds of the party start to quiet and the air grows almost too cold to keep sitting and the stars above them twinkle into full brightness
  * through it all, neither of them say anything else, and neither of them let go




	25. Chapter 25

  * beca moves into Victor’s Village, taking the 4th of the 12 houses. she picks the one all the way at the end, away from the other victors. she doesn’t want to talk to them.
  * she offers for her dad to come too, but the village is far from the mill where he works, so he decides to stay in his old house, visiting her a few times a week for dinner that’s always quick and quiet. 
  * beca’s secretly grateful… she can’t stand to be around anyone right now. half of people congratulate her, telling her their favorite part of the games, how much money they won betting on her. the other half just stare at her, treating her like she might break any second
  * the worst part is that they’re right. she feels caught somewhere between fragile and numb, and there’s not much she can do to make it go away


  * chloe and stacie come around sometimes, after school and on the weekends. beca can only stand them in small doses because even though they all know everything is different, they keep trying to act like it’s the same. beca doesn’t feel the same at all and wonders, deep down, if the new-her can even stand her old friends at all
  * sometimes she wonders if they can stand the new beca either
  * one day chloe asks her, hesitant and quiet, why she volunteered for emily
  * beca doesn’t have an answer but the question makes her angry and she doesn’t know why
  * “it just felt right” she grunts “i don’t know”
  * “but _why”_
  * “stop chloe,” stacie hushes
  * “it just doesn’t make sense!”
  * beca thinks it’s pointless, trying to make sense of what she did. what she did before the games and what she did during them, and she hates that her friends keep trying to fit her into the mold of the person she used to be, right up until the moment they called emily’s name on reaping day
  * she’s not that person anymore
  * her friends aren’t the only ones to visit. emily comes by every day, even though it’s far from her home and school
  * at first it’s awkward, the two of them together. neither of them can think of anything to say. they don’t know each other, but after everything that’s happened, talking about the things you tell someone so they can know you seems too trivial. what would they talk about? their favorite colors? the people at school? it doesn’t seem right
  * mostly they just sit in silence, exchanging small words about the changing weather, how it’s getting colder. emily tells her how her house gets almost too cold in the winter, how there’s not much money left to stay warm between her 4 sisters
  * beca buys them all expensive capitol cold-weather clothing the next day. she has more money than she can even fathom now and nothing to spend it on. she drops it by emily’s house when she and her sisters are at school and her mom at work, but she’s pretty sure emily knows it’s from her
  * when she comes by after school, she wraps beca up in a careful hug, tender and thankful, and beca sinks it into it
  * she thinks being around emily is easy, maybe because emily didn’t know the person she was before the games and has no previous image or memories to measure beca up to, no before and after comparison to make
  * to emily, she’s just beca, this beca, and that’s enough
  * beca’s not sure of their relationship, it’s not friends, exactly, and it’s not more than that, although it somehow also is. beca feels a heavy weight between them, like everything means a little more than it seems on the surface. sometimes emily looks at her like there’s so much she wants to say and sometimes beca wishes she would say it, but emily never does
  * instead, they sit together in the quiet, in that big house, too big. beca finds comfort in that, in the way emily holds her hand, in the way they look at each other, carefully taking the other in. the longer beca stares, the more beautiful she thinks emily is
  * the more days that pass, the more things don’t get better, the more she can’t forget, the more beca can feel a horrible storm building in her, one she doesn’t know how to get rid of
  * but with emily, everything feels just a little bit easier
  * with emily, everything feels just a little more okay




	26. Chapter 26

  * emily always feels out of place when she steps into victor’s village, 12 large mansions circled around a sprawling green. beca’s is the farthest in the back, so emily has to decide if she should walk around the park, awkwardly passing all the other houses, or cut through it, feeling guilty for enjoying the lush greenery and ornate fountains, so lavish compared to the poverty of some of district 7. 
  * she knows she could avoid victor’s village altogether, that beca would come to see her in the shabby hut she calls home. her sisters and mom adore beca, not only because she volunteered for emily in the games but because she’s always bringing them clothes and sweets they wouldn’t get otherwise. beca claims it’s because she has more money than she knows what to do with, and she’s probably right, but emily has a sneaking suspicion that it’s beca’s way of showing affection. beca’s not exactly one for hugs and emily guesses she probably wasn’t even before the games
  * despite all that, emily tries to visit victor’s village once a day, after school or in the evening for dinner. she can’t really help it. all day at school, she tries to imagine what beca’s doing in that big house, all alone with her thoughts
  * beca doesn’t share them with her much, but sometimes when they’re together, beca’s eyes go far away, and emily wonders if she’s back in the games or in some deeper, darker place where emily can’t reach her


  * they go to that place more often as the days drag on, as beca settles into her new life, without school or work or any kinds of distractions, just that big empty house and nothing to do
  * being in beca’s house makes her feel insignificant, with its fancy appliances, capitol tech, sparkly chandeliers. there’s a couch as big as emily’s kitchen and a large television where she can watch all the capitol programming, both news and entertainment. there’s even a piano, one that emily itches to play, but she’s afraid to ask, doesn’t really know her boundaries with beca yet
  * still, it captivates emily day in and day out. she yearns to break the heavy silence that falls over the house almost constantly. she wants to breathe music into that space, to feel the thrum of life within the walls. she’s not that great at piano, but she knows how to play from church, and she thinks if they have to suffer all this, if beca has to live here, then why not milk it for what it’s worth?
  * but then she looks at beca, at her far-away eyes, and thinks better of it
  * beca’s pain sometimes fills emily like a song anyway. she can feel it deep inside her when she thinks about jesse and knows it must be magnified within beca in ways emily can’t possibly imagine. 
  * it’s in beca’s smile, rarely given and so so small, but always genuine and endlessly beautiful
  * it’s in the way beca will hold her hand, at first tentative but then certain
  * they spend nights like that, holding hands on the couch, quietly talking about the smallest of things, like emily’s day at school or their families, until it gets late and emily has to walk back home because of curfew
  * they always leave her confused, her evenings with beca
  * she’s constantly conflicted about her feelings. part of her wishes they would talk about the games, but part of her is afraid to. she doesn’t want to get mad at beca, doesn’t feel like it’s her place to be upset about jesse. she knows it’s not fair to beca, that beca did what she could, but sometimes emily misses him so much that it rises up inside her as anger
  * she always pushes it down
  * and there’s the part of her that’s scared, the part that knows what beca did in that arena, that saw the feral, unhinged girl that looked like beca – but also didn’t – emerge from the smoke and bloodshed, somehow alive when everyone else had died
  * and there’s the part of her that feels love for beca
  * that part might be the most confusing because she doesn’t know if she’s falling for what beca did for her, or if she’s falling for beca herself, and if it’s the second, then she doesn’t know which beca she’s falling for. she doesn’t know if it’s the beca that saved her life, that volunteered for her and kept emily praying she’d come home. and she doesn’t know if it’s this new beca either, this sadder, seemingly older beca, with her careful eyes and giant heart. the girl who brings emily’s family presents and who reaches for emily’s hand when emily thinks she’ll pull away instead.
  * the girl who surprises emily one night, her voice a breathless whisper breaking the silence they’ve been sitting in for some time, emily reading while beca pretends to watch tv
  * “i know it doesn’t make sense, but sometimes i really miss him”
  * emily looks up from her school book, cautious and curious
  * “who?”
  * beca frowns, fingers playing with emily’s fingers and avoiding emily’s eyes. finally she takes a deep breath and looks up.
  * “jesse”
  * emily blinks slowly, her book falling shut. she feels the immediate sting of tears in her eyes, but she forces them back because even though she misses him, beca was _there_ , felt it first hand, and what right does emily have to be upset when beca finally wants to talk about it
  * “me too” she murmurs. 
  * “it’s crazy because… honestly, he bugged the crap out of me. he wouldn’t leave me alone leading up to the games. he was always there, talking strategy with me, teasing me about… you. and i didn’t get it, how he could be so… i dunno, optimistic and hopeful. there was nothing hopeful about that place.”
  * emily’s lips twitch, the barest amount. she almost wants to laugh. “he was just like that.”
  * “it’s like… as much as i found him annoying and wanted to be left alone, i still wanted him around” beca says
  * “i know the feeling,” emily agrees. “he had a way of wiggling into your life and making himself at home.”
  * beca nods, her teeth biting over her lower lip as she meets emily’s eyes. “i’m really sorry, em,” she whispers.
  * a wave of emotion swells inside her and she squeezes beca’s hand. “it’s not…” she clears her throat, biting back all the unsaid things she’s been holding close to her heart. “it’s not your fault.”
  * “he died so he could save me.”
  * “i know. I just mean… no matter what happened. you couldn’t have done anything different. only one person can win. no matter how unfair it is or how we feel about it… it’s just. it’s not your fault. it’s just how the games have to be.”
  * beca’s mouth thins. “do they, though?”
  * emily hesitates, mulling over her words carefully. “maybe not always, but right now, yes.”
  * beca’s eyes flash dangerously and for the briefest second emily wants to yank her hand away. then beca softens, her body going slack. “im sorry anyway.”
  * emily can’t respond, doesn’t know the right words. so she just lifts beca’s hand to her lips and kisses it. puts it against her cheek. she likes the soft warmth of beca’s skin against hers.
  * “i should get going,” emily says at last. “curfew.”
  * “you should stay.” beca’s eyes widen and she backtracks. “I mean… if you want to, then you can stay. here. with me.”
  * a surge of fondness pulses in her chest and she knows, suddenly and without a doubt, that she would be incapable of leaving now if she tried. “okay,” she says easily, loving the happy flush that’s spread over beca’s cheeks.
  * as they go to sleep, crawling under the covers in beca’s giant, comfy bed (bigger and comfier than emily could have ever dreamed of existing) emily feels that pull of conflict again, that strange part of her that feels herself falling at war with the part of her that doesn’t know which beca she’s falling for.
  * but, emily thinks, as she pulls beca into her arms and feels beca’s tense muscles start to relax, feels the easy rightness of holding beca close to her chest, she’s not sure it really matters




	27. Chapter 27

  * beca wakes to gentle fingers on her face
  * she sucks in a sharp breath, eyes flashing open and body jolting upward
  * “sorry! sorry. you’re okay, we’re home, you’re safe”
  * beca realizes she’s in bed and takes a few seconds for her heart to slow. she slumps back into the pillow, relief flooding through her. emily’s been spending the night at her house in victor’s village for a month now, but she usually has already left for school when beca wakes up. or on the weekends she sleeps later than beca does and beca spends a few minutes in easy tranquility, listening to the easy sounds of emily breathing, and peeking glances at her every few seconds. sometimes she lets herself look for longer, if emily is curled up against her and beca can’t easily turn away
  * emily’s presence in her bed has become a common comfort, warm and solid when beca can’t sleep or when she’s jolted from a nightmare, sweaty and shaken. she’ll turn and look at emily and be reminded that she’s not in that arena anymore. that she made it back home.


  * “sorry,” emily repeats with a guilty pout. “i didn’t know how best to wake you up”
  * beca rolls over to look at emily better. emily’s facing her on her side, backlit by the sunny window behind her. her hand is resting on the comforter between them and beca lets her fingers brush up against emily’s
  * “yeah. it’s… fine.” her voice comes out raspy and emily’s pout gives way to a fond smile, so small and soft beca doesn’t know what to do with it. her breath feels too hot in her lungs
  * after a moment, emily’s fingers drift back to beca’s face, her thumb gliding over beca’s cheekbone. beca’s whole body sighs, feeling the most relaxed she’s been since… she wants to say since before the reaping, but now that she thinks about it, she can’t really ever remember feeling this relaxed.
  * they stare at each other for a long second, but then emily frowns and beca knows the moment can’t last
  * “you have to get up,” emily says, slow and deadpan, like she hates the words coming out of her mouth. “they’re gonna be here soon.”
  * beca closes her eyes. shit. “i forgot for a second.”
  * “i know,” emily pouts again. “im sorry. i wanted to let you sleep but they sent a message with their arrival time”
  * “it’s fine,” beca sighs. “it’s not your fault they suck.”
  * “beca,” emily whispers, her eyes widening.
  * “because they’re ruining my beauty sleep, i mean. they could’ve picked a time in the afternoon, you know.”
  * it’s a lame attempt at a joke, but beca knows it’s enough for anyone who may or may not be listening. emily nods, eyes skittering around the room nervously.
  * beca pushes herself out of bed. “let’s get ready then. gotta look our best for the cameras.”
  * for the cameras, for the capitol. for all of panem. it was time for their follow up, a few months after the Games. the first of many. beca would have to do her victory tour over the summer and that would be hell. she didn’t even want to think of it. 
  * emily follows her out of bed and they brush their teeth and get ready. beca tries to play it off like she doesn’t mind what’s about to happen, but she’s pretty sure emily can see through her. she keeps sending furtive looks her way and, halfway through making breakfast, starts to sing softly under her breath. when she passes behind beca, she lingers, her hand gliding over beca’s back, her pretty singing voice soft in beca’s ear. beca has to admit it works because her anxiety cools to background jitters for a little while
  * finally it’s about time. beca gives herself a last glance over in the mirror and frowns. she’s still getting used to capitol-nice clothing. she usually wears her old stuff, but she has to look nice for her entourage she guesses. 
  * emily comes up behind her while she’s staring in the mirror and moves her hair off her neck. 
  * “i’m sorry you have to be part of this,” beca says. “i’m sorry your life is like this now too. that we have to… pretend.”
  * “you saved my life. don’t be sorry.” emily sighs and beca can feel it on her skin. “it’ll be over soon,” she murmurs. “for the day at least.”
  * beca nods, watching emily’s reflection, the pretty brown of her eyes. emily catches her looking and her lips twitch upward. her arms come around beca’s waist and her chin lands on beca’s shoulder. it’s soft, and intimate, and beca heats up from the inside out.
  * “you’re better at pretending than i am.”
  * emily turns to look at her and her nose brushes the underside of beca’s chin. “who says im pretending?”
  * beca’s mouth goes dry and her brain must short-circuit because she can’t think of anything to say. she stares and stares and stares. emily just laughs. “come on, i think i can hear them outside.”
  * sure enough, beca can hear clanging from outside and the low hum of muffled conversation. emily kisses her on the cheek and releases her, moving out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
  * beca drifts after her, the commotion from outside just background noise, even as emily opens the door and greets beca’s glam squad.
  * _who says im pretending_
  * it’s not like they aren’t that physically close usually. they hold hands and sit close on the couch and beca sometimes can’t even sleep these days if emily’s not touching her in some way. but that’s all she thought it was… an easy comfort between them, something that existed out of necessity. at least beca had thought so, but…
  * there was always that lingering yearning, that veiled confusion that beca didn’t acknowledge because their relationship wasn’t normal. beca had forced it into existence the second she stepped forward that fateful day and changed everything
  * she never thought it would mean anything beyond that, beyond the narrative they have to tell for the cameras
  * she really didn’t even stop to consider to think it might be something real
  * she steps outside after emily, hearing the offending squeals of her stylists and the general horrible capitol-ness from their district representative. it makes her stomach turn as she remembers she’ll be the center of attention for the rest of this horrible day, surrounded by these vapid, clueless people
  * but then emily extends her hand and beca takes it, letting emily pull her against her
  * emily talks and laughs with her team, taking the attention off beca, even if just for a moment, and beca feels gratefulness and tenderness and fondness for emily settle deep, deep inside her
  * she doesn’t know if it’s pretend, for herself or for emily, but when emily snakes her arm around her waist and tucks beca protectively against her side, beca decides that in that moment, she doesn’t really care




	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dragged back into this i guess. if you're still here, good on you

  * the days after the visit from beca’s capitol entourage, she’s restless and anxious. the momentary post-Games absence she’d had from that world had managed to numb some of the awfulness (not that she’d forgotten any of it), but now those feelings are bubbling back up in her, present and hungry
  * days are the worst. at night she dreams -- mostly bad -- but at least she’s asleep, not conscious of her thoughts. during the days, though, she has nothing to occupy her mind or her hands
  * emily’s at school, her dad at the mill. it’s just beca and that house, that too big, too extravagant house, her thoughts filling up every inch inside it until she feels crushed under their weight
  * sometimes she walks, just to have space to breathe, but there are always people, and her victory is still fresh on their minds. they always stare as she passes and sometimes they speak to her as she makes her way from shop to shop in the square, looking for anything emily’s family or her dad might need to get them through the winter. she’s got too much money and too many thoughts -- she can’t get rid of any of it
  * mainly she spends the day waiting for emily to get back from school. emily fills up that house with words and life and distractions. welcome, beautiful distractions, like her face, her laugh, her stories and her hands, chopping vegetables beca’d bought while she speaks, steady and confident from the many years spent looking after her sisters
  * she’s not just a distraction, though, beca thinks sometimes as she zones out in front of the tv, waiting, waiting. in the capitol, emily would be a tasty distraction to any person who can appreciate a pretty face
  * no. emily’s more than that to beca. she just doesn’t know how much more. emily is whatever she meant when she’d murmured _who says i’m pretending_ against beca’s cheek. 
  * she’s a faulty radio broadcast stuck on repeat when beca wants to avoid thinking of other things. she’s a reprieve, a confusing but welcome dream. emily is an inhalation, taken deeply into the lungs, a reason to come home again
  * _who says i’m pretending_
  * she’s a warm presence in the night, she’s crisp winter air on the skin, she’s all limbs and soft eyes and inviting lips, a pretty pout, an easy smile, a magnetic mouth drawing beca’s gaze, constant yearning and uncertainty and wanting, wanting, wanting
  * _who says i’m prete--_
  * a knock on the door halts this incessant train of thought. but emily had to stop at her mom’s house after school and it’s too early for her to be back and, beca frowns, she wouldn’t knock anyway. not anymore
  * she opens the door warily, praying it’s not one of those other victors, what’s-his-face from three houses down wanting to see if she’s got any booze again
  * “hey,” chloe’s smile is bright, brighter than the autumn sun sinking lower in the sky behind her
  * “oh,” beca mouths, surprised and, without reason, suddenly on guard. she clears her throat. “uh, hey.”
  * chloe’s smile flickers, just for a moment, but then it’s back. “can i come in for a second?”
  * beca nods numbly, holding the door open for chloe to pass. she leads chloe to the kitchen, offering her some water. they awkwardly settle at the kitchen table, staring at each other
  * “so...” beca says without preamble. “what are you doing here?”
  * “what,” chloe chuckles, but it’s fake and beca hates it. “i can’t visit my best friend just because?”
  * beca shrugs
  * “right,” chloe clears her throat. “no you’re right. i’m here to invite you out actually. there’s a bonfire tonight before curfew. bunch of the old crew is gonna be there and i thought, i dunno, you might wanna come.”
  * “oh”
  * “it’s gonna be small, just you know, like stacie and ash and jess and aubrey, and oh, hey! did you know aubrey is friends with emily? you should bring her along”
  * beca hesitates. “oh,” she says again, if only because she doesn’t know what else to say
  * chloe seems to realize she hasn’t sold beca on the idea and she leans forward, reaching for beca’s hand across the table. beca flinches, her hand twitching... but after a beat she relaxes, her fingers stilling between chloe’s
  * “please?” chloe says. “i miss you. and i think it will be really good for you to start getting back to normal”
  * beca frowns. “back to normal?” a bitter laugh escapes her throat “dude, i don’t think that’s gonna happen”
  * “of course it is,” chloe says plainly. “you just need to get out and stop moping around here thinking about it. what you went through was unimaginable and i can’t even begin to understand. but holing up by yourself and reliving it 24/7 isn’t gonna help you move past it beca”
  * beca twists her mouth. “move past it?”
  * chloe shoots her a small smile, still not getting it. “yeah.”
  * it’s out of becas mouth before she can help it “maybe i don’t wanna move past it”
  * chloe’s eyes widen and she leans back slightly. “what? beca”
  * “you dont get it,” it’s taking all of becas willpower not to shout. “i killed three people. even more died because of me. i can’t just move the fuck past that.”
  * “no,” chloe backtracks. “of course not. i just meant --”
  * “you meant that im not the same as i was and you want me to be because you cant deal with the fact that things are different.”
  * chloe huffs. “that’s not fair. and fine, maybe i don’t want them to be different! is it so bad that i miss you?”
  * “no but you dont just get to decide how things should be. how i should be!” beca’s vaguely aware of the sound of the front door opening and closing, emily’s shuffling footsteps in the hall. she takes a deep breath, knowing emily will call for her... but it never comes
  * she hears emily move down the hall, into the family room, quiet and cautious, and wonders if emily heard any of their conversation.
  * she pulls her hand from chloe’s and chloe leans back in her chair, face pinched.
  * “listen,” chloe murmurs, “i’m sorry if i don’t understand, but i just want to help. and i think doing stuff that will make you feel a little normal again might.”
  * beca scoffs. “nothing is going to make me feel normal again, okay? nothing is ever going to be how it was.”
  * chloe crosses her arms. “so that’s it then? you’re just going to hang around day after day waiting for emily to come home. you’re not going to have a life? friends?”
  * beca grunts. “that’s not what im saying.”
  * “it sure feels like that.” chloe hesitates, then-- “she doesn’t even know you.”
  * “maybe that’s the point. and sorry but neither do you anymore.” 
  * “fine,” chloe snaps, standing and putting on her jacket. “but i’m not just gonna stand aside and let you fester. she’s not the only one who cares about you.”
  * beca opens her mouth to respond, but a sudden noise slips into the kitchen, and the unexpectedness of it catches her off-guard.
  * “i..” she starts but can’t finish, distracted by the noise. music, she realizes. piano. 
  * she exhales, trying to focus but her attention is elsewhere. “look i appreciate what you’re doing,” she says to chloe, managing to look at her again. “but i’m not there right now and i dont know when i will be”
  * chloe looks at her for a long moment, and beca tries to dissect the emotions flitting across her face, but that’s when the music stutters, a botched chord, and beca’s attention dips again, her head turning toward the sound. 
  * is emily _playing_ that? 
  * “fine,” chloe says and beca’s gaze flicks back as chloe starts to walk toward the front door. she follows, half of her attention on chloe and half in the other room. “but the offer is still open. and you’re welcome to bring emily.” she stops at the door, fingers on the handle, turning to look at beca. “i like her, despite everything.”
  * “despite everything?”
  * chloe’s face is unreadable, something beca suddenly realizes has never happened before. chloe has always been an open book. 
  * her eyes look over beca’s shoulder, toward the other room, before settling back on beca. “i just thought--” she frowns, cutting off, then sighs and opens the door. a gust of autumn wind blows into the entrance hall and beca shivers as chloe steps outside. “the games,” chloe says, eyes dark as they appraise beca from the front step. “us. everything that’s happened. I just hope she’s worth it all.”
  * she doesn’t give beca a chance to respond. just pulls her coat tighter around her and heads off down the front steps, turning into the road.
  * beca watches her go, mouth hanging open, until she’s nothing but a shadowy speck against the horizon



**Author's Note:**

> emilyjunk.tumblr.com/tagged/bemily hunger games au


End file.
